ALGIERS 


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ALGIERS 


ALGIERS 


BY 

M.  ELIZABETH  CROUSE 

ILLUSTRATED    BY 

ADELAIDE  B.  HYDE 


A  Star  in  the  East 


NEW  YORK 

JAMES   POTT  ^  COMPANY 
1906 


Copyright  /gob,  by 
James  Pott  8l  Company 

First  Impression,  September,  igob 


To  My  Friend 


CONTENTS 


PAOB 

THE   FOUNTAIN  3 

WAVES  7 

NIGHT  AND   THE  STAR  19 

IN  THE   BEGINNING  29 

A   DREAM   OF  EL-DJEZAIR  45 

PALACE   SECRETS  81 

THE  PASSING  OF  THE   DETS  93 

LAZARUS  109 

WITHIN  THE  CITY   GATES  117 

THE   FACE  OF  THE  WATERS  129 

HIDDEN  WAYS  143 

INTO   THE   PRESENT  169 

CHANCE  AND   CHANGE  181 

FOLLOWING  THE  STAR  209 

AWAY  219 


[viijl 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


WATCHING   THE   PEODUCE   OF  ALGERIA   DEPART      FrOTltispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

OMAR-BIN-MOHAMMED  4 

THE   ANCIENT   INNER   HARBOR   OF  THE   ALGERINES  10 

THE  PLACE  DU  GOUVERNEMENT,  THE  HEART  OF  ALGIERS  16 

"the   palace   of  THE   SULTAn's    DAUGHTER"  24 

AT   THE   TEMPLE   DOOR  34 

A    HIDDEN   TREASURE  44 

ZAPHIRA  52 

THE   LAST   OF  THE   TRAIN  70 

A   FAIR   PALACE  84 

THE   FRENCH    SOLDIERS  96 

IN   THE   KASBA  102 

THE   FORT   BY   THE   PORTE    d'iSLY  114 

TELLING  ARABIAN  NIGHTS  124 
THE  MEAL-SACK,  THE  KABYLE  COSTUME,  AND  THE  PURE 

ARAB   DRESS  132 

THE    FOUNTAIN  144 

THE   LONG   MOSQUE  150 

THE   TERRACED    CITY  164 

NOTRE    DAME    d'aFRIQUE  172 

THE   TRAPPIST  MONASTERY  186 

WOMEN  200 

THE   TEMPLE    COURT   OF  THE    FOUNTAIN  206 

TUNIS  ASPIRES  222 
THE   GRAVES    OF   A    RACE   WHICH    BUT   FOR   ROME   MIGHT 

HAVE   PEOPLED   THE   EARTH  226 


[ix] 


PREFACE 

THE  book  is  an  attempt  to  express  a 
first  impression  of  the  Orient,  ob- 
tained during  five  months  in  Algiers. 
Since  the  notes  were  taken,  the  writer  has 
been  in  Tunis,  and  has  spent  a  winter  in 
Egypt.  In  neither,  it  seems  to  her,  does  the 
Oriental  life  compare  with  that  in  Algeria, 
both  for  grace  and  beauty.  Much,  however, 
of  that  first  impression  has  been  made  clear 
and  understandable  by  comparison  with  Egypt 
and  further  study  there,  while  the  feeling 
most  strengthened  is  that  the  book  itself  or 
some  book  on  Algiers  is  called  for. 

The  country  is  less  generally  familiar  than 
other  parts  of  the  North  African  coast.  Mo- 
rocco has  been  written  of — what  could  be  so 
charming  as  De  Amicis'  record?  Egypt  has 
been  often  described  and  has  been  visited  by 
those  who  have  seen  no  other  Eastern  land. 

But  Morocco — and  it  may  be  added,  Tunis 
— shows  much  which  is  repellant  to  us;  and 
Egypt,  while  possessing  the  ancient  interest, 
is  not  all  the  Orient,  nor  the  best  of  it.  The 
costumes  of  Tunis  do  not  compare  with  those 

|[W]  . 


PREFACE 

of  Algiers.  And  the  rich  coloring  of  Egypt, 
which  combines  so  well  with  its  yellow  sands; 
the  dark  woodwork  of  the  houses;  the  cos- 
tumes, dark  and  less  distinctive;  the  bronze 
faces  of  the  Egyptian  inhabitants;  the  burli- 
ness of  the  Tartar  Turks;  seem  all  less  fine 
than  the  white  Algerian  buildings  in  their 
dense  foliage,  the  white  and  distinctive  cos- 
tume, the  white  faces  of  Algiers.  The  writer 
rejoices  now  that  her  first  experience  of  the 
Orient  was  had  in  the  last  named  city.  There, 
from  the  midst  of  every  Western  comfort,  in 
surroundings  of  poetic  beauty — the  Moorish 
villas  and  gardens  now  belonging  to  Euro- 
peans— with  all  that  is  repulsive  to  Westerners 
in  the  Oriental  life  hidden  from  our  eyes,  we 
saw  the  white  Orient  in  its  most  ideal  aspect, 
its  spiritual  meaning. 

Yet  the  political  situation  which  revealed 
this  Orient  to  us,  may  be  its  destruction  ere 
long.  Algiers  is  the  already  conquered  cen- 
ter from  which  the  French  nation  would 
spread  our  Western  civilization  into  Tunis 
and  Morocco.  And  this  is  the  fact  which 
gives  Algeria  a  peculiar  interest  for  the  world 
to-day.  M.  E.  C. 

Greenwich,  Conn. 

September  22,  1905. 

[xii] 


ALGIERS 


The  Fountain 


IT  was  dawn  on  the  hills  outside  Algiers. 
The  night  lights  shone  among  the 
cypresses.  A  faint  flush  rose  above  the 
bay,  which  still  held  in  its  bosom  the  dream  of 
the  morning  star.  A  breeze  awoke;  and  the 
first  bird-call  broke  the  silence  of  the  garden. 
It  was  a  signal.  I  leaned  from  my  window 
and  listened  to  the  message,  watching  through 
the  wonderful  transparency  of  dawn  the  old 
struggle  between  Darkness  and  Light.  And 
it  came  into  my  mind  how  in  the  morning  of 
the  world  men  had  called  the  Sun  and  the 
Earth  but  one  man  and  one  woman,  separated 
and  returning  to  each  other;  or  had  said  that 
the  Sun  was  a  hero,  who  lost  and  recovered 
some  boon.  Dark,  the  condition  of  absence, 
was  evil;   Light  was  good. 

Presently  the  gardener  entered  my  garden, 
bringing  the  remembrance  that  in  earliest 
days  it  had  been  sacred  to  help  the  Sun  in  his 

[3] 


ALGIERS 

work.  After  a  time  the  Earth  veiUM  herself 
in  a  mist  like  a  visible  ideal.  Then  I,  the 
watcher,  knew,  it  is  in  a  southern  garden  that 
the  fountiiin  of  poetry,  of  youth  and  immor- 
tality is  hid. 

Omar-bin-Mohamnied  is  the  Genius  of 
this  land  and  of  its  gardens.  He  belongs 
among  their  rose-leaves,  he,  the  Sf)irit  of  the 
East  and  of  the  Past.  There  is  a  silence  and 
a  mystery  about  him;  the  incense  of  his 
religion  is  the  essence  of  liis  life.  I  lis  love, 
with  her  child,  he  has  hidden  sacredly  away, 
where  labyrinths  of  beauty  lead  to  inner 
courts,  to  flowers  and  l)atliing  fountains.  She 
must  never  appear  unveiled;  and  he  who 
draws  aside  the  veil  of  his  bride  on  her  wed- 
ding night  should  never  have  beheld  the  face 
of  any  but  his  own.  That  is  the  secret  and 
the  romance  of  the  Moorish  dwelling. 

Close  in  the  trees  on  the  hillsides  nestle 
these  white  Moorish  villas,  overlooking  the 
exquisite  curve  of  the  bay,  which  is  full  of 
changing  colors.  When  one  catches  a  glimpse 
of  the  hidden  approaches,  the  cloud-like 
domes  beneath  their  crescents,  light  arches 
springing  from  marble  columns — and  all  fine 
openwork  inlaid  with  tiling  of  brilliant  colors 
— one    realizes    how    fairy-lore    and    religion 

[4] 


Oiuai-bin-Muhainiiicii 


THE    FOUNTAIN 

itself  came  out  of  the  East,  the  land  of  morn- 
ing. The  West  should  bring  to  the  Truths, 
hidden  in  these  generic  dreams,  the  under- 
standing of  developed  reason — should  redis- 
cover, and  more  clearly,  what  the  East  in 
visions  dimly  perceived.  It  is  marvellous  how 
the  Orient  remains  unchanged  through  the 
centuries.  Like  a  vision  are  the  pale  figures 
passing  through  the  French  streets;  one  may 
sometimes  see  a  shepherd  with  a  lamb  in  the 
folds  of  his  white  garment.  The  pages  are 
constantly  turned  back  for  us  to  the  beginning. 
Only  a  short  journey  and  we  enter  the  living 
Past  and  find  the  Tents  of  Abraham,  and 
Rebecca  at  the  Well — though  the  buildings 
of  Egypt  and  of  Rome  are  in  ruins.  So  is 
interpreted  for  us  that  most  wonderful  book 
that  ever  was  written,  the  oldest  and  therefore 
the  most  sacred,  the  record  of  a  race's  develop- 
ment told  from  within,  the  type-story,  the 
heart-story  of  the  world. 

Beautiful  Orient,  thou  art  the  land  of  the 
beginning.  Thine  is  the  star  of  revelation. 
Thine  is  the  fountain  of  poetry  in  which  the 
Past  expressed  its  sense  of  the  rhythm  of  the 
Universe;  and  by  that  rhythm  the  Present 
interprets  the  Dream! 

[5] 


WAVES 


WAVES 

TWO  friends,  we  had  come  from  Amer- 
ica to  Algiers,  and  had  taken  up  our 
abode  in  a  villa  belonging  to  a  hotel 
on  the  hill.  Here  we  have  read  and  watched, 
and  have  gone  down  into  the  life  of  the  city 
and  discovered  the  traces  of  what  has  been. 
For  the  Moorish  life  is  passing,  is  now,  in 
many  of  its  beauteous  shells,  itself  a  dream 
which  flits  whitely  through  marble  courts  and 
arches  where  we  are  conscious  of  it.  So  we 
remember  and  learn. 

Strange  that  this  morning  land  of  Algeria, 
this  beautiful  southern  shore  long  ago  over- 
flowed by  the  East,  should  have  been  to  our 
civilization  as  a  twilight  border,  beyond  which 
is  the  desert.  There  is  no  national  story.  It 
is  not  a  country,  but  a  land;  yet  a  land  which 
was  rival  and  foil  to  Rome,  and  over  which 
has  swept  the  whole  procession  of  history,  the 
drama  of  religion,  leaving  a  very  present 
problem  for  the  French.  It  is  the  secret  of 
the  charm  of  Algiers  that  no  otherwhere  do  the 
East  and  the  West  so  meet. 

[9] 


ALGIERS 

It  was  far  to  come,  but  we  deemed  it  true, 
as  Irving  says,  that  there  is  no  such  prepara- 
tion for  a  new  world  as  the  blank  of  a  long 
ocean  voyage;  especially  if  the  new  world  be 
the  old,  and  at  the  end  of  the  journey  one 
enters  through  the  narrow  gates  of  Gibraltar 
into  that  Sea-in-the-IIeart-of-the-Land,  on 
whose  shores  men  woke  to  self-consciousness 
through  learning  to  write,  and  history  began. 

Nowhere  in  life  or  story  could  one  be  more 
suddenly  and  bewilderingly  presented  with  all 
the  elements  which  make  up  the  whole,  than 
is  the  traveller  to  Algiers  on  his  arrival  in  that 
city.  Before  he  can  set  foot  to  shore  Arabs 
and  Berbers  have  swarmed  over  the  steamer 
and  blocked  the  passages;  and  when  he  has 
at  last  pushed  by  them,  he  ascends  from  the 
docks  and  passes  along  the  Boulevard  de  la 
Republique,  into  the  Place  du  Gouvernement, 
where  he  finds  others  congregated.  Italians, 
Maltese,  Spanish,  French  mingle  with  Moors 
and  Arabs,  Hebrews,  Kabyles,  Negroes  and 
Mozabites  from  the  desert. 

But  it  is  a  French  city  which  he  finds — a 
second  Paris.  The  arcaded  Boulevard  is 
built  above  the  hidden  warerooms  and  the 
arches  of  the  ramparts,  which  completely 
conceal  the  wild  cliffs  that  here  border  the 
[10] 


WAVES 

bay,  and  that  once  formed  a  natural  fortress 
behind  which  the  old  Moorish  city  rose  to  its 
own  threatening  Kasba  on  the  hill.  Like  the 
closing  prison-walls  of  the  old  story,  the  French 
city  is  rapidly  closing  upon  and  crushing  out 
of  existence  the  old  El-Djezair.  The  ter- 
raced avenue  looks  down  upon  the  harbor, 
one  of  the  busiest  harbors  of  France.  The 
water-front  is  lined  with  piles  of  wine  casks 
and  cork.  The  railroad  station  is  there. 
Every  variety  of  vehicle,  as  well  as  flocks  of 
donkeys,  comes  and  goes  on  the  graded 
ways  which  lead  up  beside  the  ramparts  to 
the  Boulevard.  On  the  seaward  side  of  the 
avenue  is  a  heavy  iron  balustrade,  and  lean- 
ing along  it,  a  line  of  the  most  varied  figures 
imaginable. 

At  the  end  of  the  avenue  is  a  snow-white 
Turkish  mosque,  which  strikes  at  once  the 
keynote  of  Algiers,  and,  among  French  build- 
ings, forms  a  beautiful  and  unexpected  finish 
to  the  long  vista  of  the  Boulevard.  It  takes 
up  one  side  of  the  Place  du  Gouvernement, 
the  focal  point  of  the  city:  a  square  which 
occupies  part  of  the  site  of  the  Djenina,  the 
garden  and  palaces  of  the  Deys.  On  the  hill 
behind  is  the  French  cathedral;  while  the 
dome  of  the  Jewish  synagogue  rises  from  the 

[11] 


ALGIERS 

old  town.  Near  this  spot  were  once  two 
Roman  cemeteries,  and  from  the  square  may 
be  seen  the  remains  of  a  Spanish  fort  and  of 
a  Turkish  prison  in  the  harbor. 

Algeria  is  a  great  and  unexhausted  field  for 
the  archaeologist;  an  interesting  puzzle  to  the 
ethnologist — but  what  a  living  question  for 
the  French!  The  Place  du  Gouvernement  is 
a  bit  of  the  ancient  Babel,  where  all  classes 
and  all  races  meet;  not  only  from  the  past — 
the  stranded  elements  of  the  great  waves 
which  have  swept  this  coast — but  also  from 
the  present  south  of  Europe. 

The  Moors,  who  with  the  Arabs  form  the 
chief  portion  of  the  population,  are  them- 
selves a  mixture  of  elements,  and  even  their 
name  is  confusing.  It  is  undoubtedly  from 
Mauri,  applied,  long  before  the  Arab  inva- 
sion, to  the  first  known  inhabitants  of  Mauri- 
tania; who  were  also  called  by  the  Romans, 
like  all  foreigners,  Berbers  or  Barbarians, 
from  which  name  the  Barbary  States  received 
their  cognomen.  When  the  great  Arab  inva- 
sion swept  over  this  same  Mauritania,  the 
Spanish  called  those  Arabs  who  entered  their 
kingdom,  Moors;  and  in  those  people  at  pres- 
ent known  by  that  term  the  Arab  blood  pre- 
dominates. The  nearest  equivalent  to  "  Moor'* 
[12] 


WAVES 

among  the  Orientals  themselves  is  the  word 
"Hadar,"  signifying  an  Arab  who  lives  in  the 
town  in  distinction  from  one  who  adheres  to 
the  free  life  of  his  pure-blooded  ancestors. 
Though  this  shore  has  been  cultivated 
since  earliest  times,  the  Hamitic  Kabyles,  the 
other  large  portion  of  the  population,  who  are 
the  original  Berbers  or  Mauri,  and  who  are 
said  by  ancient  historians  to  be  the  exiled 
Canaanites;  and  the  Semitic  Arabs,  who 
believe  themselves  the  sons  of  Ishmael,  and 
whose  language  is  first  cousin  to  the  Hebrew, 
both  retain  the  primitive,  patriarchal  dress 
and  customs  of  the  old  scripture  days.  Yet 
they  themselves,  though  having  Moses  and 
the  prophets,  have  neither  the  Hebrew  nor 
the  Christian  religion,  but  believe  that  Mo- 
hammed was  a  greater  than  Jesus.  Never- 
theless, the  Kabyle  women,  not  knowing  why, 
make  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  their  babes 
when  they  first  put  them  into  swaddling 
clothes;  and  the  girls  have  the  cross  tattooed 
on  their  foreheads.  This,  and  the  better 
position  of  the  women  among  these  people, 
are  relics  of  a  time  when  they  were  Chris- 
tianized by  the  Romans.  The  very  forms  of 
the  pottery  which  these  women  mould  by  hand, 
and  which  is  sometimes  so  tasteful,  are  doubt- 
[13] 


ALGIERS 

less  a  tradition  of  Roman  and  Punic  art. 
These  people  possess  also  remnants  of  Roman 
law  and  Roman  institutions.  Theirs  was  an 
inaccessible  mountain  country;  while  others 
of  their  kin,  now  called  Touaregs  by  the 
French,  retained  their  independence  in  the 
desert.  Thus  they  furnished  a  haven  for  the 
remnants  of  each  race  as  it  was  threatened 
with  extinction  by  successive  invasions.  Blue 
eyes  and  fair  hair  are  now  the  only  traces  of 
refugees,  the  secret  of  whose  origin  died  with 
them.  Was  it  the  presence  of  Aryan  blood 
which  has  led  recent  authors  quoted  by  a 
writer  in  Harper's  Magazine  to  consider  that 
the  migration  of  our  ancestors  moved  north 
from  Africa  ? 

Algeria,  Mohammedan  for  a  thousand  years, 
but  Christian  in  the  days  of  the  Romans,  is 
again  in  the  possession  of  a  nation  under  the 
spiritual  if  not  the  temporal  power  of  Rome; 
but  with  that  power,  in  her  own  land  and  in 
Algeria,  this  nation  has  been  lately  contending. 

Notwithstanding  this  fact,  the  French  peo- 
ple are  of  Catholic  Christianity,  they  are  of 
Western  civilization  and  Aryan  blood;  and 
have  shown  themselves  intensely  anti-Semitic, 
at  least  in  regard  to  one  branch  of  that  race. 
The  majority  of  the  inhabitants  of  Algeria 
[14] 


WAVES 

are  Semitic  Arabs  and  Moors,  of  the  East 
and  of  the  Mohammedan  religion.  The 
Turks,  their  masters  preceding  the  French, 
though  of  Tartar  blood  and  hated  by  the 
Semitic  subjects,  were  also  of  an  Oriental 
civilization  and  devotees  of  Islamism.  The 
Jews,  more  cosmopolitan  in  civilization,  are 
yet  of  Semitic  blood  and  kindred  language 
with  the  Arabs  and  have  the  early  traditions 
which  the  Koran  adopted;  but  they  differ  in 
the  development  of  their  religion  and  are  the 
more  bitterly  disliked  by  the  Arabs  for  their 
very  nearness,  while  they  are  despised  by  the 
French.  The  Hamitic  Kabyles  are  also  East- 
ern and  followers  of  Mohammed. 

And  the  sum  of  it  all  is  this :  that  the  West- 
ern nation  which  is  perhaps  most  practical 
of  all;  whose  government  is  most  strongly 
centralized,  all  its  motives  coming  from  Paris; 
whose  justice  seems  most  nearly  absolute, 
treating  Negro,  Moor  and  Frenchman  as 
equals;  is  in  charge  of  a  people  whose  laws 
and  customs  developed  from  their  religion, 
whose  religion  itself,  whose  nature  and  con- 
ditions, make  for  them  opposite  standards  by 
which  to  be  judged,  and  unfit  them  for  com- 
bination with  their  conquerors  or  for  compe- 
tition with  Western  civilization.  Yet  the  West 
[15] 


ALGIERS 

needs  the  East,  from  whence  have  come  its 
dreams  and  aspirations.  Will  it  be  union  of 
the  two  in  Algeria  ? 

The  Place  du  Gouvernement  is  the  heart 
of  Algiers;  Algiers  is  the  centre  from  which 
the  French  wish  to  solve  the  problem  of  the 
North  African  coast,  the  coast  which  is  the 
borderland  of  our  civilization,  the  margin 
where  history  is  being  written.  It  is  the 
significance  of  what  has  been  done  in  Algiers 
which  gives  the  place  its  interest,  in  view  of 
the  situation  in  Morocco.  Possessing  Algeria, 
France  has  long  needed  Morocco,  the  hotbed 
of  her  insurrections,  the  refuge  of  her  insur- 
rectionists. Neither  Morocco  nor  Algeria  has 
limited  its  extent  into  the  desert;  and  the  line 
between  the  two  has  never  been  defined  in 
its  southern  part.  An  oasis  far  down  in  the 
Sahara  is  still  a  matter  of  dispute.  More- 
over, in  the  north,  Morocco  might  dominate 
the  Straits  of  Gibraltar  more  effectually  than 
Gibraltar  itself,  because  its  source  of  supplies, 
its  inexhaustible  though  undeveloped  re- 
sources, are  there  at  hand.  France  may  well 
dream  that  with  Algiers  as  a  centre,  with 
Morocco  at  one  end  and  the  strategic  harbor 
of  Bizerta  in  Tunis  at  the  other,  she  will  have 
brought  about  one  of  those  rhythmic  returns 
[16] 


WAVES 

of  history,   and   will   have   reconstructed  for 
herself  another  Roman  Empire. 

However,  if  the  French  are  anti-Semitic, 
the  Moroccans  are  almost  fanatically  anti- 
French,  with  a  stronger  antagonism  against 
this  European  nation  than  against  any  other. 
It  is  a  curious  fact  that  this  Oriental  people 
have  had  for  long  a  legend  that  a  French 
army  would  overrun  Morocco  and  a  French 
general  would  enter  its  most  holy  mosque — 
where,  indeed,  he  would  become  converted. 

In  Algiers,  in  the  Place  du  Gouvernement 
— once  with  its  palace  the  centre  of  the  city  in 
another  sense — one  may  already  read  accom- 
plishment. But  what  is  the  meaning  of  the 
writing  for  the  world?  One  must  cross  the 
threshold  of  the  Past  to  comprehend. 

We  stand  at  the  end  of  the  French  Boule- 
vard, above  the  French  shipping;  and  as  we 
watch  Mohammed  leaning  on  the  wall,  it  is 
the  Present  which  fades  into  a  dream,  the 
Past  becomes  the  real.  He  is  looking  at  the 
ancient  inner  harbor  of  the  Algerines  with 
the  Moorish  buildings  on  the  jetty;  and  the 
white  lighthouse  like  a  minaret,  its  foot  on  the 
old  Spanish  fort,  triumphant  over  the  Spanish 
arms  above  the  door.  It  is  the  charmed 
guardian  of  the  old  El-Djezair. 
[17] 


NIGHT  AND  THE  STAR 


NIGHT  AND  THE   STAR 

PERHAPS  through  its  very  contrast  with 
the  Present,  what  is  left  of  the  Past 
and  the  East  draws  us  more  strongly. 
But  altogether  many  are  the  difficulties  which 
lie  in  the  way  of  following  the  star,  of  finding 
the  fountain.  Though  the  land  is  possessed 
of  enchanting  beauty,  it  is  prisoned  and  pro- 
tected manifold.  The  French,  while  them- 
selves destroying  much  that  was  Oriental, 
have  made  Algeria  difficult  of  access  to  out- 
side enterprise.  And  not  only  is  there  the 
almost  certainly  tempestuous  voyage,  a  dragon 
which  guards  these  shores,  but  winter  and 
Rhamadan  are  here  sometimes,  as  both  were 
when  we  arrived;  and  the  fair  land  was 
secluded  by  clouds  and  rain,  to  come  forth 
later  with  a  marvellous  luxuriance  of  flowers. 
A  mantle  white  as  snow  lay  upon  the  hills; 
but  when  we  approached,  a  perfume  filled 
the  atmosphere  and  the  flakes  melted  into  the 
fairy  blossoms  of  the  sweet  alyssum.  The 
air  is  pure  and  fresh,  spicy  from  roses  and 
oranges  and  pines  and  the  salt  from  the  sea. 
It  is  a  land  of  light;  a  land  of  rose  gardens 
[21] 


ALGIERS 

and  orange  groves,  cypresses  and  vesper  bells, 
color  and  fragrance  and  the  song  of  birds. 
"I  sometimes  think  that  nowhere  blows  so 
red  the  rose  as  where  some  buried  Caesar 
bled";  and  here,  as  in  other  countries,  per- 
ished Rome. 

The  moon  of  Rhamadan  is  waning  and  the 
orange  buds  are  bursting  into  bloom.  Never- 
theless, Nature  aids  Man  in  imposing  barri- 
cades, and  even  Nature  has  her  share  in  the 
Past.  The  hedges  are  of  aloes,  of  cacti,  or 
of  the  thornbush  from  which  the  crown  of 
thorns  was  made. 

From  our  high  position  on  the  hill  we  can  see 
beyond  weird  groves  of  eucalypti,  and  among 
the  guardian  cypresses,  the  white  city  on  the 
hill  above  the  bay.  It  is  inexpressibly  lovely 
when  the  glow  of  a  smile  comes  over  it  as  it 
lies  dreaming,  itself  the  setting  for  a  dream 
of  fairyland. 

We  know  that  everywhere  through  the 
arcaded  streets  of  the  French  portion,  and 
along  the  sea-wall  of  the  Boulevard  pass  the 
pale  figures  from  that  inner  city  which  has 
been  called  the  sepulchre  of  a  past  life,  where 
the  Moor  still  hides  away  his  love,  his  treasure 
and  his  religion,  and,  during  the  fasting  moon 
of  Rhamadan,  himself. 

[22] 


NIGHT    AND    THE    STAR 

The  old  city  sternly  forbids!  The  solid 
front  which  it  presented  from  the  water,  on 
closer  acquaintance  discloses  passages  like 
burrows.  The  building  has  grown  all  irregu- 
larly. It  is  impossible  to  decipher  the  maze. 
The  houses  along  these  passages  are  each  a 
smaller  blank  white  shape  with  entrances 
often  below  the  street  level.  Within,  beyond 
the  door,  is  the  house  passage,  constructed 
to  conceal;  but,  if  followed,  leading,  like  that 
which  Alice  found  in  Wonderland,  to  an  inner 
world  of  loveliness. 

Every  old  palace  is  a  secret.  Nowhere  is 
this  more  true  than  in  Algiers.  Less  known, 
less  visited,  than  other  cities  where  the  Orien- 
tal life  still  prospers,  the  capital  of  the  Bar- 
bary  Corsairs,  the  valiant  City  of  the  Holy 
Wars,  lies  here  in  a  mysterious  sleep  in  the 
midst  of  a  new  French  town.  The  French 
Algiers,  while  apparently  opening  to  the  world 
the  Arab  El-Djezair,  in  reality  encloses  it  more 
surely  than  did  its  ancient  walls,  with  a  spirit- 
ual barrier  before  which  at  every  point  the 
Arab  life  withdraws  and  buries  itself.  Through 
the  heart  of  the  old  town  the  tortuous,  tunnel- 
like passages  are  scarce  wide  enough  for  two 
to  pass;  and  the  streets  form  the  maze  of 
cul-de-sacs,  where  no  foreigner  may  find  his 
[23] 


ALGIERS 

way.  They  were  streets  without  name,  and 
houses  without  number.  Each  man  knew  his 
own  and  cared  not  that  any  other  should 
know.  A  few  small  iron-barred  windows 
seem  also  only  to  forbid,  as  does  the  roughness 
of  the  walls,  whitewashed  over  the  wooden 
supports  of  the  projections  and  over  the  mar- 
ble sculpture  about  the  doors,  which  is  merely 
suggested  now,  and  is  the  only  hint  of  the 
exquisite  courts  and  columns  often  to  be  seen 
within.  For  we,  as  women,  have  been  privi- 
leged to  visit  Moorish  women,  and  we  know 
that  up  a  narrow  flight  of  stairs  in  an  alley 
and  inside  these  stern  dwellings  are  revealed 
much  grace  and  charm.  First,  the  master's 
long  reception  room,  then  a  passage  which 
turns,  forming  a  screen;  and  in  the  heart  of 
the  building,  with  the  main  rooms  opening 
off  the  four  sides  of  its  upper  gallery,  is  the 
court,  perhaps  with  flowers  and  fountain. 
This  arrangement  secludes  still  more  securely 
by  a  sort  of  labyrinth  the  Moor's  hidden 
treasure,  his  harem.     For  in  this  city 

"Woman's  voice  is  never  heard;   apart 
And  scarce  permitted,  guarded,  veiled,  to  move; 
Yet  not  unhappy  in  her  master's  love, 
And  joyful  in  a  mother's  gentlest  cares — 
Blest  cares!    all  other  feelings  far  above, 
Herself  more  sweetly  rears  the  babe  she  bears." 

[24] 


NIGHT    AND    THE    STAR 

So,  much  that  pertains  to  Algerian  life  and 
story  is  diflBcult  to  know.  History  is  crys- 
tallized in  the  Moorish  dwellings;  but  many 
beautiful  buildings  have  been  swept  away  by 
the  French.  The  Turks  kept  no  clear  record 
and  did  not  understand  how  to  make  maps; 
therefore  historians  pass  over  their  period 
with  the  statement  that  it  is  too  terrible  to 
tell  about.  The  living  Orientals  of  the  Pres- 
ent, in  whom  is  our  chief  interest,  are  wrapped 
in  reserve.  The  fine  Semitic  face  of  the  Arab 
is  trained  to  impassivity.  Furthermore,  it  is 
the  Mohammedans'  poetic  fancy  that  no 
image  can  be  made  unless  something  of  the 
soul  goes  to  form  it.  Therefore,  though  lov- 
ing the  transient  mirror  or  the  pool,  which 
gives  them  back  what  they  have  lost,  they 
dread  the  evil  eye  of  the  lens. 

The  Arab  keeps  the  grace  and  stately  dig- 
nity of  freedom;  and  his  is  the  veil  and  the 
seamless  cloak,  the  flowing  white  costume 
than  which  there  is  none  more  majestic  in  the 
world.  As  in  his  own  Arabian  Nights,  the 
son  of  an  erstwhile  noble  sheikh  does  not  hesi- 
tate to  become  a  merchant  in  a  small  way; 
and,  sitting  on  the  terrace  in  our  garden,  sur- 
rounds himself  with  the  rich  belongings  of 
his  former  life.  At  times  his  former  slaves, 
[25] 


ALGIERS 

the  wild,  fanatical  blacks  from  the  desert,  fill 
the  air  about  him  with  monotonous  magic 
music  from  their  weird  instruments,  as  if  to 
summon  back  the  atmosphere  of  the  Past. 
Yet,  though  we  see  him  here,  or  find  him 
sleeping  where  once  was  the  gate  of  his 
city,  or  watch  him  gazing  at  the  ancient 
stronghold  of  the  inner  harbor,  it  is  only 
when  we  follow  him  through  the  gates  of  his 
temple  that  our  eyes  are  touched  with  sight, 
and  we  realize  how  his  inner  life  goes  on. 
Here  are  courts  again  with  founts  for  purify- 
ing, where  the  worshiper  bathes  his  feet  ere 
treading  holy  ground;  and  here  is  the  inner 
place  of  prayer,  where  his  face  seems  to  wear 
a  rapt  expression,  quite  above  even  noticing 
the  intrusion  of  our  watchfulness. 

Surely  it  is  part  of  the  spell  of  Algiers  that 
so  much  is  hidden,  and  some  things  are  inac- 
cessible. The  more  one  seeks  the  more  one 
realizes  that  the  buried  treasure  is  inexhaustible 
— until  every  stone  speaks  and  one  fathoms  the 
secret  of  his  origin  in  the  color  of  a  native's  eyes. 

This  is  another  world  that  lies  hid  in  the 
heart  of  the  French  Algiers;  a  world  whose 
walls  are  white  as  tombs,  whose  inhabitants 
are  clothed  in  white,  hooded  and  cloaked, 
with  veiling  haiks  like  clouds  of  the  ideal; 
[26] 


NIGHT    AND    THE    STAR 

figures  whose  motion  is  stillness,  whose  dream- 
ing eyes  look  back  within  the  Past.  All  is 
wrapped  in  mystery;  all  is  asleep;  the 
essence  of  the  Orient,  a  dream.  We  know 
that  within  those  low  doors,  which  one  must 
stoop  to  enter,  is  many  a  romance,  and  a 
beauty  as  mysterious  as  the  outward  reserve 
which  conceals  it.  In  those  villas  on  the 
hill,  now  many  of  them  in  foreign  hands,  was 
once  the  magnificence  of  fairy  palaces,  in 
whose  courts  still  linger  the  orange  blossoms, 
the  ripple  of  fountains,  and  almost  the  scent 
of  incense  and  of  burning  aloe  wood.  It  is 
difference,  not  distance,  that  counts.  And  we 
find  ourselves  haunted  and  under  the  spell, 
entranced.  We  must  dream,  sometimes  hap- 
pily, sometimes  in  deepest  melancholy.  But 
the  dreams  are  true.  We  are  not  only  taken 
to  the  Past,  but  lifted  from  our  ideas  of  ma- 
terial worth  to  a  larger  universe,  till  we  repeat, 
"What  is  man  that  thou  art  mindful  of  him; 
or  the  son  of  man  that  thou  visitest  him  .5^" 

Go  forth  in  the  stillness  of  night,  under  the 
stars.  The  silence  is  full  of  a  secret;  the 
white  walls  shine  in  the  darkness;  the  white 
robed  figures  are  still.  In  it  all  is  symbolized 
and  out  of  the  silence  spoken,  the  truth  that 
spiritual  revelation  is  the  secret  of  the  East. 
[27] 


IN  THE  BEGINNING 


IN   THE   BEGINNING 

THESE  are  our  gleanings  from  quaint 
old  French  books — how  heavy  for 
the  French! — and  from  the  labor  of 
those  English  scholars  who  cared  deeply  for 
the  Oriental  life  or  loved  Algeria  before  Egypt 
called  to  England.  Especially  do  we  draw 
upon  the  writings  of  one  solemn  Englishman, 
who,  working  for  his  government  here  beside 
the  study  window  with  the  beautiful  view, 
became  enamored  of  the  lightsome  grace  of 
this  land,  and  attempted  in  his  serious  Eng- 
lish way  to  tell  its  story.  Therefore  if  the 
tale  wax  dull  or  move  a  trifle  heavily  at  times, 
the  reader  will  forgive.  It  was  and  is  a  labor 
done  for  love. 

According  to  all  these  historians  the  Ka- 
byles  are  the  earliest  historical  inhabitants; 
Kabyle,  from  the  Arabic  word  for  tribe,  hav- 
ing more  recently  been  applied  to  that  portion 
of  the  Berbers  or  Barbarians — so  named  by 
the  Romans — who  now  inhabit  the  mountains 
of  Algeria.  They  are  supposed  by  some 
[31] 


ALGIERS 

ancient  writers  to  be  the  exiled  Canaanites, 
for  several  Roman  authors  describe  two  col- 
umns of  stone  found  near  the  present  Tangier, 
with  the  inscription:  "We  are  they  who  fled 
from  Joshua,  the  son  of  Nun!'* 

There  is  something  fascinating  in  these 
early  efforts  to  account  for  everything.  Their 
success  in  this  case  is  established  by  ethnolo- 
gists to-day,  who  generally  believe  the  Ka- 
byles  to  be  Hamitic — and  assuredly  Canaan 
was  the  son  of  Ham. 

When  the  Semitic  Phoenicians — Queen  Dido 
fleeing  from  her  royal  brother  at  Tyre,  as 
legend  tells  us — ^founded  Carthage,  and  from 
there  gained  control  of  the  coast,  the  Berbers 
were  never  subjugated.  In  the  long  struggle 
between  Carthage  and  Rome,  which  was 
carried  on  over  all  this  country,  when  the 
Semitic  civilization  gave  way  to  the  Aryan, 
and  a  new  era  was  marked  in  the  world's 
development,  the  Berbers  fought,  sometimes 
on  one  side,  sometimes  on  the  other;  but 
always,  even  after  the  Roman  conquest, 
maintained  a  certain  independence,  under 
such  leaders  as  the  famous  Jugurtha,  and 
Juba  who  married  the  daughter  of  Antony 
and  Cleopatra.  Juba  was  a  man  of  much 
personal  beauty,  whose  learning  was  so  re- 
[32] 


IN    THE    BEGINNING 

markable  that  Plutarch  called  him,  "the 
greatest  historian  amongst  kings";  and  Pliny 
thought  him  more  remarkable  for  his  erudi- 
tion than  for  his  crown.  His  son,  Ptolemy, 
ruling  after  him,  was  summoned  by  the  ever 
jealous  Caligula  to  Rome,  where,  ostensibly 
because  of  the  attention  his  rich  garments 
excited,  but  more  probably  for  his  treasure, 
he  was  disposed  of.  He  was  the  last  native 
ruler  to  be  recognized  by  the  Great  Power  of 
those  days.  But  gradually,  some  of  these 
Berbers,  those  called  Kabyles  now,  entrenched 
themselves  in  the  mountain  fastnesses;  while 
others,  the  present  Touaregs,  found  in  the 
wide  desert  their  field  of  freedom. 

The  earliest  definitions  of  the  tribes  of 
North  Africa  by  ancient  geographers  cor- 
responded roughly  to  the  present  divisions  of 
this  country;  and,  though  varying  at  differ- 
ent stages  of  development,  the  general  lines 
have  more  or  less  persisted.  Cyrenaica,  the 
eastern  portion,  adjoining  Egypt,  remained 
intact  whether  as  kingdom  or  province.  The 
first  Roman  province,  Africa  Propria,  made 
out  of  the  Carthaginian  state,  lay  next;  and 
was,  even  in  Roman  days,  divided  into  two 
portions  similar  in  limits  to  the  modern  Tripoli 
and  Tunis. 

[33] 


ALGIERS 

After  Africa,  came  Numidia,  now  the  French 
Algerian  province  of  Constantine;  and  from 
Numidia  to  the  Atlantic  the  country  was 
known  as  Mauritania.  The  Romans  divided 
it  first  into  Mauritania  Orientalis  and  Mauri- 
tania Occidentalis ;  the  former  equal  to  what 
was  left  of  the  country  which  is  now  Algeria, 
and  the  latter,  the  present  Empire  of  Morocco. 
History  has  made  one  of  her  curious  reversals 
so  that  Western  Mauritania  is  now  the  more 
Oriental. 

A  later  Roman  division  of  Mauritania 
Orientalis  prefigured  the  division  of  that  por- 
tion of  French  Algeria  into  the  remaining  two 
provinces;  that  part  next  to  Numidia  becom- 
ing Mauritania  Setifensis,  and  corresponding 
to  the  province  of  Algiers,  with  the  Roman 
town  of  Icosium,  the  modern  city  of  Algiers, 
to  mark  its  western  boundary.  Mauritania 
Csesariensis  represented  the  modern  French 
Oran.  At  the  time  of  this  Roman  division 
Mauritania  Occidentalis  became  Mauritania 
Tingitana — now  Morocco. 

During  the  Roman  occupation,  many  fa- 
mous Romans  were  connected  with  "Africa" 
— the  name  which  the  Romans  gave  to  the 
first  province,  the  Carthaginian  state,  and 
which  has  extended  to  the  whole  continent. 
[34] 


At  the  Temple  Door 


IN    THE    BEGINNING 

Q.  Csecilius  Metellus  and  Marius  were  lead- 
ers in  the  Jugurthine  Wars.  Immediately 
afterward  raged  over  this  country  the  conflict 
of  those  Titan  Romans,  whose  family  rela- 
tions and  personal  ambitions  made  for  a 
period  the  history  of  the  world;  and  whose 
gigantic  figures  are  clear  across  the  centuries 
and  personally  dear  to  the  youth  of  our  own 
age — Pompey,  Scipio,  Cato,  Labienus,  Caesar. 

This  struggle  took  place  before  the  end  of 
the  Berber  kingdoms,  and  Berber  kings  of 
Mauritania  fought  first  for  one,  then  for  the 
other  rival.  In  this  way  they  lost  their  pos- 
sessions and  many  lives;  and  the  whole  of 
North  Africa  became  nominally  a  part  of  the 
Roman  Empire. 

It  was  when  Caesar  had  brought  a  measure 
of  peace,  that  Sallust  was  given  the  governor- 
ship of  Numidia.  Poor  Sallust!  from  all 
accounts  the  business  of  making  history  in 
this  capacity  was  less  suited  to  him  than  the 
writing  of  it.  He  was  but  an  indifferent  ruler 
and  was  glad  to  return  to  Rome  and  to  see 
Juba  restored  by  Augustus  to  his  own.  How- 
ever, after  the  murder  in  Rome  of  Juba's 
son  Ptolemy,  the  emperors  no  longer  attempted 
to  give  North  Africa  Berber  rulers. 

The  provinces  prospered  mightily  for  the 
[35] 


ALGIERS 

Romans  in  the  three  centuries  which  fol- 
lowed. Emperors  not  only  came  from  Africa 
but  she  made  emperors.  It  was  a  common 
saying  in  the  home  city:  "What  use  to  exile 
a  man  to  Africa  ?  He  will  find  there  a  second 
Rome!" 

The  city  of  Algiers,  as  has  been  mentioned, 
was  then  the  Roman  Icosium — a  station  on 
the  road  along  the  coast — the  French  have 
made  of  her  to-day  a  second  Paris.  Beneath 
the  Rue  de  la  Marine  is  the  principal  Roman 
thoroughfare,  and  two  Roman  cemeteries  lie 
buried  near  the  Place  du  Gouvernement  in 
the  Rue  Bab-el-Oued  and  the  Rue  Bab-Azzoun 
under  the  gayest  portion  of  the  present  town. 
There  are  still  the  remains  of  what  is  sup- 
posed to  be  a  Roman  aqueduct,  spanning  a 
lonely  valley  where  the  spring  flowers  grow. 
On  the  day  when  we  visited  it,  a  black  cloud 
hung  above  the  arches,  as  if  the  curtain  of 
oblivion  had  been  for  a  moment  lifted,  until 
an  indelible  impression  should  be  made,  and 
would  then  descend  again. 

Back  in  the  Algerian  country  are  the  sites 
of  cities  more  important  to  the  Romans,  con- 
nected by  a  portion  of  Rome's  network  of 
great  roads,  roads  which  served  to  feed  the 
world  from  Rome,  the  centre;  and  thus  to 
[36] 


IN    THE    BEGINNING 

bind  her  possessions,  not  externally  into  a 
heterogeneous  mass,  but  from  within,  into  a 
state  better  organized  than  any  empire  formed 
before. 

The  ruins  of  one  of  the  ancient  cities,  which 
we  know  as  Timgad,  in  Algeria,  are  impress- 
ive beyond  those  of  Pompeii.  There  is  a 
story  that  they  were  recently  discovered  by 
two  shepherd  boys  who  took  shelter  under 
the  top  of  the  triumphal  arch,  and,  digging 
in  the  sand,  found  carvings  on  their  impro- 
vised house.  The  city  has  been  all  un- 
covered since — arch  and  amphitheatre  and 
forum,  streets  upon  streets  revealing  the  per- 
fect ground  plan  of  the  dwellings.  It  is  a 
place  of  sunshine  and  of  utter  silence  now — 
in  which  the  soul  goes  back,  freed  from  the 
bonds  of  time. 

During  those  earlier  Roman  centuries  and 
afterward,  while  the  shocks  of  the  struggles 
between  the  Eastern  and  Western  Empires 
were  felt  along  this  coast,  Latin  Christianity 
came  unobtrusively  into  being,  and  is  said  to 
have  had  its  birth  in  Africa,  the  birthplace 
and  the  place  of  death  of  the  great  St.  Augus- 
tine. With  Christianity  were  associated  a 
new  set  of  great  African  names,  including 
TertuUian  and  Cyprian.  Unfortunately,  a 
[37] 


ALGIERS 

bitter  schism  arose  in  the  Church  over  an 
episcopal  election;  and  the  rebellious  and 
defeated  sect  of  the  Donatists  took  refuge 
among  the  mountain  Berbers,  who  were  also 
Christianized. 

Then  followed  the  third  great  invasion  of 
this  coast  since  the  arrival  of  the  Berbers: 
that  of  the  Aryan  Vandals,  coming  from 
nobody  is  quite  sure  where,  though  there  are 
three  clearly  defined  and  mutually  disputant 
theories. 

The  Vandals  were  admitted  into  Mauri- 
tania across  the  narrow  Strait  of  Gibraltar 
by  the  Roman  governor,  Boniface,  the  disciple 
and  friend  of  St.  Augustine.  He  was  driven 
to  the  treacherous  act,  because  falsely  accused 
of  treachery  by  his  jealous  rival  ^tius,  who, 
being  in  Rome,  had  the  ear  of  the  regent 
Placidia.  Thus  this  change  is  connected 
with  a  woman,  whose  story  is  one  of  the  most 
dramatic  to  be  found  in  history.  The  Van- 
dals were  aided  by  the  Donatists.  Conse- 
quently, so  divided  among  themselves,  the 
Romans,  in  spite  of  the  remorse  and  the  des- 
perate efforts  of  Boniface  while  St.  Augustine 
lay  dying  in  Bona,  were  unable  to  hold  the 
provinces.  The  religion  of  the  Vandals  is 
known  as  Arian  Christianity. 
[38] 


IN    THE    BEGINNING 

The  Vandal  leader,  Genseric,  raided  Sicily 
and  Italy,  and  brought  from  Rome  itself  to 
Africa  the  golden  candlestick  and  the  holy 
table  of  the  temple  at  Jerusalem.  But  the 
Vandals  were  themselves  vanquished  by  the 
luxurious  habits  of  the  conquered  Romans, 
into  which  they  fell;  and  Byzantium,  taking 
advantage  of  this  weakness,  destroyed  their 
power.  However,  she  could  not  establish 
her  own  over  the  native  tribes.  The  sacred 
emblems  were  rescued  by  Belisarius  and  sent 
to  Jerusalem,  on  which  journey  they  mysteri- 
ously vanished  from  the  knowledge  of  the 
world. 

Another  century  passed,  and  Africa  as  a 
Byzantine  province  under  the  Patrician  Gre- 
gorius  became  independent  even  of  Byzan- 
tium. Then  from  the  eastern  end  of  the 
Mediterranean,  the  end  opposite  to  that  from 
which  the  last  invasion  came,  began  a  move- 
ment, a  migration,  unparalleled  in  history.  Not 
for  race  or  country,  the  adherents  of  a  fight- 
ing religion  swept  over  the  entire  coast  and 
submerged  it.  Their  one  means  of  prosely- 
ting, the  sword;  inspired  by  a  faith  in  imme- 
diate, eternal  glory  for  him  who  dies  in  war; 
they  fought  with  an  abandon  which  rendered 
them  as  supernatural  fiends  to  their  enemies. 
[39] 


ALGIERS 

Nothing  could  withstand  them.  Enclosed  in 
a  horde  of  Berber  allies,  the  army  of  Byzan- 
tines, with  a  vitiated  faith,  was  conquered  by 
the  fire  of  a  religion  far  purer  in  precept  than 
their  own  had  become  in  practice. 

With  this  conquest,  also,  are  connected  the 
stories  of  women.  One  of  these  is  the  legend 
of  a  Berber  queen  who  called  her  people  to 
council,  where  she  declared  it  her  belief  that 
the  Arabs  were  envious  of  the  riches  of  the 
Berbers.  She  told  her  subjects  that  there 
was  but  one  thing  for  her  nation  to  desire, 
and  that  was  independence.  Eloquently  she 
argued  that  the  riches,  which  now  endangered 
that  independence  through  Arab  cupidity, 
were  intended  by  a  higher  power  to  do  so. 
The  danger  was  a  revelation  that  the  riches 
were  wrong  in  themselves,  a  temptation  to 
luxury  which  would  render  the  nation  weak 
to  resist  the  envy  it  excited.  With  a  fiery 
patriotism  she  urged  them  to  destroy  all  their 
wealth,  that  they  might  preserve  their  free- 
dom in  a  life  of  simplicity.  Led  by  her,  the 
Berbers  fell  upon  their  own  towns  and  de- 
stroyed them ;  cut  down  their  beautiful  palms ; 
buried  their  jewelry.  But  all  to  no  avail. 
The  invincible  army  swept  on.  The  first 
wave  had  started  from  conquered  Egypt  under 
[40] 


IN    THE    BEGINNING 

the  brother  of  the  Khalif  Othman.  It  re- 
turned— but  the  tide  rose.  Another  wave 
followed  and  remained.  The  recently  inde- 
pendent state  of  Africa,  once  a  Roman  prov- 
ince, became  the  Mohammedan  province  of 
Ifrikia.  The  Berbers  yielded  their  adopted 
religion  if  not  their  independence.  Islamism 
reached  the  mountain  peaks,  and — except 
among  a  small  number  of  Copts  in  Egypt — 
Christianity,  though  with  struggles  and  reac- 
tions, was  wiped  out  in  Africa. 

At  the  nearer  side  of  the  gate  to  Spain  the 
Mohammedans  were  stopped.  Both  sides  of 
the  Strait  were  held  by  the  Visi-Goth  warriors 
of  that  country;  until  Count  Julian,  The  Trai- 
tor of  Spanish  history,  in  revenge  for  a  per- 
sonal grievance  to  his  daughter,  invited  them 
to  enter,  by  the  way  the  Vandals  had  come 
down  into  Africa.  "  Multitudes  of  the  Moors 
(Berbers)  followed  the  Arabs  into  Spain,  and 
the  Europeans  gave  the  African  name  to  their 
Asiatic  conquerors." 

A  large  army  of  pure-blooded  Semitic 
Arabs  remained  in  the  southern  continent. 
The  provinces  of  Africa  were  governed  by 
Emirs,  under'  Haroun-al-Raschid  and  the 
Khalif s  of  Bagdad.  Their  capital  was  the 
sacred  city  of  Kairouan  near  Tunis.  How- 
[41] 


ALGIERS 

ever,  about  900  A.D.,  a  Berber  of  the  prov- 
ince of  Constantine,  claiming  descent  from 
Fathma,  daughter  of  the  Prophet,  overthrew 
the  followers  of  the  reigning  dynasty  of 
Khalifs.  His  successors,  sweeping  easi  again, 
established  the  Fatimite  Khalifate  at  Cairo, 
which  was  itself  deposed  some  centuries  later 
by  the  old  orthodoxy  and  made  its  final  stand 
in  Persia.  When  the  Fatiniites  first  concjuered 
Syria,  they  banishetl  the  desert  Arab  tribes  of 
that  country  to  Upper  Egy})t,  whence  they 
spread  like  a  horde  of  locusts,  according  to 
Ibn  Khaldoun,  westward  over  the  whole  of 
North  Africa.  Those  Berbers  who  were  not 
absorbed — with  the  remnants  of  Vandals, 
Byzantines  and  Romans — took  refuge  in  their 
mountains.  These  wild,  free  Arabs,  though 
banished  from  the  cities,  still  roam  over  coun- 
try and  desert  as  if,  indeed,  some  ancient  curse 
compelled  their  wandering. 

Several  centuries  later  a  sect  of  Moham- 
medan warriors  arose  in  Morocco  and  spread 
its  power  as  far  east  as  Tripoli,  with  its  capi- 
tal at  Tlem9en.  Thus  the  waters  surged 
back  and  forth.  A  desert  tribe  finally  con- 
quered most  of  the  country,  leaving  the  large 
cities  independent  powers. 

Algiers  had  been  founded  under  the  protec- 
[42] 


IN    THE    BEGINNING 

tion  of  the  Fatimite  Khalifate  on  the  site  of 
Icosium;  and  had  been  given  the  name  "El- 
Djezair,"  "The  Isles,"  for  the  islands  lying 
out  in  the  harbor.  The  whole  name  was  "El- 
Djezair  Beni-Mezghanna,"  "The  Islands  of 
the  Children  of  Mezghanna."  It  is  notice- 
able that  the  coast  cities  of  North  Africa  are 
built  on  the  west  side  of  bays  and  thus  face 
the  rising  sun. 

In  the  centuries  following  its  founding 
Hebrews  were  driven  to  El-Djezair  by  per- 
secution in  Europe,  yet  they  are  hated  by 
Moors  as  well  as  by.  Christians,  and,  more 
than  the  Christians,  are  despised  by  the  Moors. 
There  is  an  Arabic  saying  to  the  effect  that 
Christians  may  be  forgiven — they  are  ignorant; 
but  the  Hebrews  should  know  better.  Yet, 
though  the  existence  of  the  Hebrews  in  Africa 
was  barely  tolerated,  it  was  existence;  and 
these  miserable  people  were  so  thankful  for 
mere  life  that  when  in  later  years  the  Span- 
iards threatened  El-Djezair  they  besought 
Heaven  to  save  it,  and  Algerine  Jews  still 
keep  a  day  of  thanksgiving  for  the  storm 
which  destroyed  the  Spanish  fleet  and  de- 
livered the  city. 

For  seven  hundred  years  the  Mohamme- 
dans flourished.  Theirs  was  the  civilization 
[43] 


ALGIERS 

of  the  East  and  their  Semitic  race  have  ever 
been  the  dreamers  and  the  teachers  of  the 
world.  Into  Spain  they  had  carried  their 
best,  all  the  beauty  and  fire  of  the  East;  and 
had  held  up  the  lamp  of  learning  in  those 
Dark  Ages,  when  the  light  of  Rome  had  been 
well-nigh  extinguished.  The  struggle  with 
them  developed  the  Spanish  bravery  and 
thirst  for  conquest  which  wrought  out  history 
in  a  new  world. 

The  taking  of  Constantinople  by  the  Turk- 
ish Mohammedans  shut  off  the  trade  upon 
which  Europe  depended,  at  the  eastern  end 
of  the  Mediterranean;  and  caused  those 
quests  of  the  European  nations  for  a  new  way 
to  the  old  world,  which  resulted  in  the  dis- 
covery of  a  new  world  instead  of  a  practical 
new  way.  That  awaited  the  making  of  the 
Suez  Canal  and  England's  keeping. 

With  the  driving  of  the  Moors  from  Spain 
and  the  rise  of  Turkish  power,  began  the 
chapter  in  Algerian  history  which  gave  us 
most  of  the  old  city  as  we  have  it  to-day. 


[44] 


A  Hidden  Treasure 


A  DREAM  OF  EL-DJEZAIR 


A   DREAM   OF   EL-DJEZAIR 

THE  monastery  bell  close  by  has  rung 
the  evening  hour  and  I  have  lighted 
my  candles  for  the  departed  day. 
It  was  so  beautiful.  I  kneel  beneath  my  win- 
dow, resting  on  the  broad  sill.  Below  are 
masses  of  orange  flowers,  with  the  roses 
under  them;  and  beyond  the  cypresses,  the 
blue  curve  of  the  bay,  and  the  white  city 
veiled  in  purple  shadows  on  the  hill. 

A  story  within  a  story,  as  the  Arabian 
Nights  are  told,  there  comes  to  me  the  tale 
of  Zaphira,  Princess  of  El-Djezair.  Changed 
from  a  few  pages,  perhaps  half  legend,  in  the 
quaint  old  French  book  of  Laugier  de  Tassy, 
it  comes  to  me  out  of  the  shadows  and  I  know 
it  in  all  its  truth.  Zaphira  walks  in  the 
shades  of  the  garden;  and  the  falling  twi- 
light is  strangely  like  the  dawn  of  another 
day. 

It  was   a  day  as  heavenly  fair  in  its  be- 
ginning,   when    the    Emir    Selim-bin-Teumi 
[*7] 


ALGIERS 

watched  the  crescent  and  the  morning  star 
above  the  bay.  In  him  the  finest  instincts 
of  his  race  had  risen  to  their  flower;  in  him 
the  Oriental  tide  of  mysticism  was  at  full 
flood;  all  his  soul  filled  with  a  pure  wonder. 
This  was  his  wedding  day;  and  Selim-bin- 
Teumi's  life  was  as  clear  as  the  atmosphere 
of  dawn. 

He  knew  how,  years  before,  his  father  had 
stood  in  the  self-same  place,  when  his  own 
life  dawned.  Before  the  father,  as  now 
before  himself,  was  even  then  the  one  object 
which  had  darkened  the  old  Emir's  reign, 
the  Spanish  fort.  A  short  time  previous  to 
Selim's  birth  the  Spaniards  had  taken  the  last 
stronghold  in  Spain  from  the  Mohammedans; 
and,  as  Teumi,  the  father,  learned  from  cap- 
tive Christians,  from  out  the  Alhambra  itself 
had  sent  a  man  across  the  Sea  of  Darkness 
to  discover  a  new  way  to  the  treasure  coun- 
try of  India,  that  the  Christians  might  avoid 
the  Mohammedans  in  the  Mediterranean  and 
at  Constantinople,  where  the  Turks  had  cut 
off  Europe  from  the  caravan  route.  There 
were  fabulous  stories  of  how  this  man  had 
found  a  new  world  for  Spain;  and  that  coun- 
try was  now  sending  her  ships  westward,  to 
return  laden  with  pure  new  gold.  But  the 
[48] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

Moors,    though    defeated,    had    never    been 
resigned;   and  from  without  the  fair  kingdom 
of  Spain,  they  continued  to  harass  her  shores, 
until  Ferdinand,  strong  in  all  he  had  gained, 
swooped  down  like  an  eagle  on  the  African 
coast  and  around  into  its  bays.    Its  eastward- 
facing  cities  one  by  one  fell  before  him,  and 
he  set  a  fort  to  watch  over  each.     El-Djezair 
he  could  not  take,  but  the  fort  was  there,  the 
last  link  in  the  chain,  on  one  of  the  very  isles 
which  had  given  its  name  to  the  town.     The 
Emir  was  not  afraid  for  the  city  itself — he 
could  defend  it;   but  to  his  high  spirit  and  to 
his    people,    the    fort    was    an    insult    which 
poisoned  their  lives.     Since  it  had  been  com- 
pleted and  left  with  its  little  garrison,  they 
had  tried  furiously  to  take  it;  and,   finding 
such  efforts  useless,  had  settled  to  attempts 
by   siege    and   famine.     They    had   captured 
the  vessels  which  brought  its  supplies.     The 
garrison  almost  miraculously  held  out— by  a 
strange  chance  there  was  a  fresh  spring  on 
the  island— and  there  stood  the  fort,  guarding 
the  bay  of  the  Algerines,  practically  closing 
their  own  harbor  to  them.     Teumi  beached 
his  boats  on  the  other  side  of  the  point,  which 
meant  harder  work  for  the  Christian  slaves. 
Nevertheless,  he  had  longed  to  free  his  peo- 
[49] 


ALGIERS 

pie  from  the  insult,  and  to  avenge  it.  As  he 
had  watehed  on  a  certain  morning,  he  had 
been  exultant  in  the  helicf  that  a  son  was  to 
be  born  to  him  who  would  accomplish  what 
he  had  been  unable  ti>  <1»>.  All  w;is  j)repared 
in  the  palace  for  the  birth  festivities. 

Suddenly,  while  he  watehed,  .1  star  fell. 
His  heart  stood  still.  Then'  raii}^  tlirou/^li 
the  palace  the  death-wail  of  the  women.  He 
threw  his  arms  toward  lieaveri  I  lieu  <()ven'd 
his  eyes  and  stood  (|uiveriug.  Ibit  when  he 
had  deseen(le(l  ;ind  women  brout^ht  tin-  boy 
to  him,  he  fell  in  a  swift  rush  a  e«'rtain  conso- 
lation. Instantly  he  saw  that  for  a  new- 
born babe  the  child  was  strangely  beautiful; 
and  the  large  dark  eyes  th.it  ga/ecl  at  him 
seemed  even  then  unmi>takably  those  of 
Aziza.  Aziza  lived  in  her  son.  A  sense  of 
all  that  the  boy  would  be  to  him  suddenly 
filled  his  soul.  Nevertheless,  with  the  feel- 
ing of  possession  in  this  new  form,  again 
came  fear.  "As  beautiful  as  the  full  moon," 
he  would  have  said,  but  dared  not,  lest  the 
evil  eye  be  east  upon  the  son.  "  Praise  be  to 
him  who  created  such  a  being;  may  he  be 
thy  protector,"  he  murmured  with  white  lips. 

So  was  born  Teumi's  son,  the  present 
young  Emir,  who  stood  now  in  his  father's 
[50] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

place;  and  so  was  the  week  of  his  birth 
festivity,  with  its  gathering  of  relatives  and 
friends,  turned  into  a  period  of  mourning. 
Aziza  was  not  interred,  as  the  poorer  people, 
in  the  earth,  without  a  protection;  but  half- 
seated,  in  a  tomb  which  faced  the  East;  and 
the  tomb  was  enclosed  in  a  lattice.  It  was 
so  shielded  that  the  Emir  might  visit  it  on  his 
Sabbath,  when  the  souls  of  the  dead  may 
return  to  the  earth.  To  be  sure,  keeping 
company  with  spirits  was  women's  business, 
therefore  no  men  were  allowed  in  the  ceme- 
teries on  that  day — except  the  Emir  with  his 
private  entrance  to  his  private  tomb — ^for  his 
love  was  great,  and  that  it  was  women's  busi- 
ness mattered  not  to  him.  He  did  as  he 
would  have  had  his  wife  do  for  him. 

On  the  seventh  day,  with  his  own  hands,  he 
killed  the  sheep  in  the  great  court  of  his  pal- 
ace; and  in  the  midst  of  a  large  company, 
he  named  his  man-child,  Selim;  and  he  con- 
sidered how  he  should  keep  him  from  the  evil 
eye  and  plan  for  his  happiness.  He  called  a 
council  of  wise  men  to  confer  on  this  serious 
subject.  As  they  sat  before  him  on  cushions 
on  the  floor,  one  told  him  of  a  boy  kept  in  a 
subterranean  chamber  till  he  should  be  grown ; 
but  the  youth  had  one  day  escaped,  and  then 
[51] 


ALGIERS 

began  for  him  a  series  of  most  evil  adventures. 
"Yea,"  continued  another  sage,  "a  father 
took  his  son  to  an  uiiinliahited  island  and 
there  hid  him  in  a  cliainlxT  under  the  ground 
during  the  period  for  which  a  warning  had 
been  given;  but  strange  eircumstanees  led 
the  boy's  slayer  to  hide  in  a  tree-to|»  in  the 
same  desolate  island  tlie  night  before  the 
youth  was  brought  there;  and  though  the  two 
made  friends,  the  son  was  kiUed  by  acci- 
dent on  the  final  day  of  the  fated  period. 
To  fly  from  fjite  is  to  nisli  in  a  circle  into  its 
arms."  So,  thinking  it  over,  the  father  de- 
cided U})on  two  things:  he  would  keep  the 
boy  beside  him;  and,  in  order  that  his  son 
might  find  pei'feet  happiness,  the  custom  of 
his  coimtry  should  be  fulfilled  to  the  letter, 
he  should  never  see  face  of  any  wcjman  before 
his  marriage.  Thus  Selim  grew;  and  even 
the  slaves  went  veiled  before  him.  And  the 
fort  remained  unconquerable  in  the  harbor. 
As  the  years  went  on,  the  Emir  had  told 
his  son  of  the  mission  before  him;  told  him 
of  his  birth  and  the  reason  for  his  seclusion; 
and  finally  had  betrothed  him  to  the  daughter 
of  Haroun,  a  ruler  of  the  Berbers,  with  whom 
he  had  made  an  alliance.  The  fame  of  the 
maiden's  beauty  had  not  then  gone  abroad 
[52] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

— only  Teumi  knew  of  it,  and  his  knowledge 
had  come  about  in  this  wise. 

Because  of  her  beauty,  Zaphira,  the  Berber 
princess,  had  been  almost  as  secluded  as  the 
Emir's  son.  She  had  been  taught  the  wom- 
anly accomplishments,  had  worked  over  her 
little  embroidery  frame,  and  could  sing  to  a 
guitar,  with  a  voice  which  melted  to  tears  the 
few  who  had  heard  her.  At  one  time  during 
her  childhood,  it  had  been  her  father's  fancy 
to  show  his  friends,  when  he  gathered  them 
together,  how  thoroughly  he  was  theirs,  by 
producing  his  dearest  treasure,  Zaphira,  to 
bear  the  long-nosed  ewer  and  the  basin  after 
the  feast  and  to  pour  the  rosewater  over 
their  hands.  And  presently,  though  she  was 
but  a  child,  one  of  the  old  men  desired  her 
of  her  father. 

That  afternoon  Haroun  called  Zaphira  to 
his  apartments;  and  as  she  stood  before  him, 
he  told  her  of  another  home  where  she  should 
be  honored  as  a  wife,  the  wife  of  his  own 
friend.  Daughters,  it  was  hardly  needful  to 
say,  always  did  the  will  of  their  fathers  in 
this  matter,  as  in  all  others;  and  he  had  pro- 
vided well  for  his  only  child.  Suddenly, 
something  leapt  to  life  in  Zaphira.  At  the 
threatening  proximity  of  wifehood,  she  be- 
[53] 


ALGIERS 

came  a  woman.  She  neither  cried  out  for 
the  homesickness  and  terror  which  cliit(ln'(l 
her  heart;  nor  did  she  ily  to  her  mother, 
well  knowing  there  could  he  no  refuge  there 
from  her  father's  will.  NO  refuge  anywhere, 
she  realize<l;  ami  she  Kowt-d  Ikt  head  in 
apparent  and  custoniary  submission,  hut  with 
an  odd  dignity  ahout  her  small  and  defense- 
less figure.  Her  father  passed  out.  Zaphira 
straightened,  followc*!  him,  and  <losing  tin- 
door  to  the  gallery,  stood  hack  in  it,  her  eyes 
wide  with  fear.  Perhaps  it  was  her  utter 
helplessness,  perhaps  her  ignorance  of  the 
enormity  of  what  she  did,  which  lielped  lier. 
The  independence  of  her  race  rose  in  lier, 
despite  her  sex;  and  those  wide  eyes  looked 
straight  into  lier  father's,  as  she  said 
solenudv: 

"My  father,  you  may  do  with  me  as  you 
please.  1  will  die,  but  1  will  not  marry  Ab- 
d  all  ah." 

More  remarkable  than  the  defiance  of  this 
woman-child  was  her  father's  acceptance  of 
it.  Its  very  magnitude  from  so  tiny  and 
helpless  a  source  overcame  him.  Perhaps  it 
was  the  call  of  his  own  blood.  He  opened 
his  arms.  "If  I  keep  you,"  he  exclaimed, 
"you  must  never  disobey  me  again";  and 
[54] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

Zaphira  flew  to  him,  and  nestled  in  his  em- 
Jbrace,  as  her  great  sobs  came. 

So  Haroun  told  his  friend  that  he  would 
make  no  arrangement  to  part  with  his  little 
girl  as  yet.  Abdallah  replied  that  he  would 
wait;  and  reminded  the  father  that  in  the 
lore  of  their  people  even  unborn  babes  were 
conditionally  betrothed.  But  Haroun  would 
have  no  binding  agreement.  From  that  time 
he  kept  his  treasure  veiled  and  secluded. 
And  often,  for  long  hours  she  would  sit  curled 
up  on  her  window  sill,  which  opened  into  a 
balcony  shielded  by  a  lattice;  or  from  the 
balcony  itself,  she  would  look  out  through  a 
small  opening  at  the  blue  sea  far  below  and 
beyond.  For  now  she  dreamed,  as  girlhood 
everywhere  dreams,  of  her  own  kind  of  a 
prince.  He  should  be  a  boy  of  her  own  age 
— she  had  never  had  a  child  to  play  with. 
But  sometimes,  as  she  looked  toward  the 
East,  far  out  to  sea,  she  felt  that  a  great 
good  or  evil  was  approaching  her  over  the 
waters.  It  held  her  fascinated,  as  she  watched. 
Her  nurse  saw  only  the  sea -mists  closing 
down.  Zaphira  never  told  her  dreams,  even 
to  her  mother  or  her  nurse ;  indeed,  Zaphira's 
mother  had  counted  only  in  her  creation. 
The  sole  wife — for  the  Berbers,  unlike  the 
[55] 


ALGIERS 

Arabs,  have  l)ut  one — she  was,  perhaps 
busied  all  the  more  ceaselessly  in  caring  for 
and  increasing  her  personal  channs  and 
accomplishments.  Zaphira  had  forfcitccl  all 
claim  to  attention  from  the  ontset  by  failing 
to  be  a  boy.  Slic  liad  Ixcn  turiMMl  over  to 
the  care  of  lici-  niir>f,  wlio  knew  just  cnongh 
to  see  to  her  material  necessities  and  to  give 
her  what  trainini'  she  had  received.  IJut  her 
father  had  made  a  plaything  of  the  danghter 
whose  birth  liad  disappointed  him;  iiiilil  with 
a  strong  man's  tenderness  he  had  c-ome  to  love 
her  for  her  frailty,  to  teach  her,  and  to  feel  a 
deep  compassion  for  her  (lee|)einng  woman- 
hood. He  alone  divined  something  of  her 
dreams;  and  casting  about  in  his  mind  and 
his  country  for  the  prince,  he  betliought  him 
of  the  son  of  the  Emir  of  El-l)jezair. 

Now  it  fell  out  that  about  this  time  the  Emir 
of  El-Djezair  and  his  son  journeyed  through 
their  own  dominions;  and  the  Emir  was 
desirous  of  an  alliance  with  the  Berbers  of 
the  near  mountains.  Accordingly  he  visited 
Haroun,  bringing  the  youth  closed  in  a  pal- 
anquin through  the  Berber  country,  where  the 
women  were  not  so  strictly  veiled.  The  Emir 
sent  ahead  and  made  careful  condition  that  his 
son  should  not  see  the  face  of  even  a  slave-girl. 
[56] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

Had  the  visitors  been  enemies,  Haroun 
would  have  done  them  no  harm  while  they 
were  guests  in  his  territory.  But  he  did  not 
desire  the  alliance,  for  the  Berbers  were  ever 
an  independent  people;  and  he  feared  that 
in  this  coalition  they  must  be  the  secondary 
part,  and  thus  become  in  reality  subject  to 
the  will  of  the  Algerines. 

However,  at  the  first  sight  of  Selim  his 
heart  had  gone  out  to  the  lad,  and  he  had 
loved  him  as  his  own  son.  Therefore  he  took 
Teumi  alone  to  the  secluded  part  of  the  gar- 
den, beneath  Zaphira's  balcony.  He  knew 
that  she  was  there  at  the  lattice.  The  Emir 
was  secretly  troubled.  Did  Haroun  mean 
that  something  should  happen  which  should 
be  a  cause  of  offence  after  he  had  returned 
home.?  He  kept  his  eyes  on  the  ground. 
But  Haroun  said  softly,  "Lift  thine  eyes,  my 
brother,"  and  the  Emir  looked  up.  Framed 
in  the  lattice,  he  beheld  the  most  wonderful 
face  he  had  ever  gazed  upon.  It  vanished 
instantly.  Speechless  with  astonishment  and 
distress  at  what  he  had  seen,  the  Emir  could 
not  conceal  his  agitation.  Haroun  watched 
him.  "She  is  thy  daughter,"  Teumi  said  at 
last,  "I  ask  her  of  thee  for  my  son."  "If 
thou  askest  that,"  answered  Haroun,  "thou 
[57] 


ALGIERS 

shalt  have  not  only  my  daughter,  but  the 
alliance;  for  thy  son  is  such  that  I  praise 
God  whenever  my  eyes  behold  him," 

Then  the  Emir  told  Ilaroun  of  his  son's 
birth  and  how  he  had  brought  him  up;  and 
finally  he  said,  "  My  son  must  not  see  her  yet." 
Haroun  agreed  gladly,  not  loath  to  put  off 
the  day  of  parting.  However,  on  one  point 
he  doubted,  for  he  feared  no  comparison  of 
his  daughter's  face  with  any  other.  It  seemed 
to  Haroun  that  the  knowledge  of  other  faces 
would  but  train  the  youth  to  appreciate 
Zaphira  and  to  realize  by  comparison  that 
she  w^as  supreme.  Nevertheless,  the  Emir 
could  not  now  be  turned  from  his  course; 
and  he  had  known  a  true  love.  He  desired 
more  than  ever  that  this  peerless  maiden 
should  be  the  first  upon  whom  his  son  should 
look,  and  that  on  his  wedding  night.  It 
should  be  to  him  the  perfect  revelation  of 
womanhood. 

So  the  Emir  and  his  son  departed;  and 
Selim  had  been  in  the  home  of  Zaphira,  and 
neither  knew  of  the  other. 

Three  years  later  the  Emir  lay  dying.     The 

fires  of  youth  had  burned  out,  and  he  would 

have  been  glad  to  go  on,  except  that  his  work 

was  not  done.     But  he  believed  that  the  son 

[58] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

whom  he  had  given  to  his  city  would  accom- 
plish it.  So  they  two  talked  together  for  the 
last  time;  and  the  father  rehearsed  the  story 
of  his  own  unavailing  life  of  struggle  to  free 
his  people  from  an  insult,  and  reminded  Selim 
that  he  must  do  a  greater  deed  than  his  father 
could.  Then  the  elder  man  bestowed  upon 
his  son,  his  last  and  finest  gift,  the  betrothal. 
"When  I  am  gone  on  my  long  journey,"  he 
said,  "  do  thou  set  out  immediately  and  bring 
thy  bride  home." 

And  so  had  Selim  done,  taking  a  long 
journey  for  his  bride,  as  many  others,  espe- 
cially among  the  Berbers,  did  then,  and  do 
to-day:  some  for  a  prize  only  to  be  had  from 
a  distance;  others,  of  a  baser  sort,  that  the 
bride  may  not  flee  home  again.  Selim  saw 
not  the  face  of  a  woman,  for  he  went  in  the 
midst  of  his  troop.  Haroun  welcomed  the 
young  Emir  with  rejoicing  and  feasting;  and 
the  gift  of  gold  which  Selim  brought  as  the 
price  of  his  bride  was  very  great. 

Her  friends  visited  her  and  brought  their 
gifts;  but  Zaphira  went  through  the  time  of 
preparation  in  mingled  joy  and  misgiving. 
The  prince  was  here — her  father  had  said  he 
was  the  prince — yet  she  was  not  to  see  him 
[59] 


ALGIERS 

until  after  they  had  all  journeyed  together 
to  El-Djezair  and  her  father  had  left  her  in 
the  Emir's  palace.  It  was  as  the  mist  on  the 
sea.  Her  father's  face  she  knew,  and  her 
childhood  life.     Small  wonder  that  she  shrank. 

One  night  when  the  last  guest  had  dej)arted 
Zaphira  sat  alone  on  the  floor  in  her  apart- 
ment, turning  over  in  her  lap,  by  the  dim 
light  of  a  swinging  lamp,  a  large  casket  of 
her  own  family  heirlooms.  Suddenly  she 
espied  among  them  a  red  stone  she  had  not 
previously  noticed.  As  she  held  it  uj)  to  the 
light,  she  perceived  that  the  stone  was  hollow 
and  that  the  color  was  produced  by  a  liquid 
within.  It  was  one  of  those  curious  con- 
trivances in  which  the  romantic  Oriental 
mind  delights;  and  Zaphira  had  heard  stories 
sufficient  for  her  to  understand  that  the 
imprisoned  liquid  was  poison.  Whence  it 
had  come,  she  did  not  know,  and  her  quick 
Oriental  imagination  seized  upon  the  mystery 
attaching  to  it.  She  immediately  accepted  it 
as  her  talisman,  her  charm  against  the  evil 
eye;  and  she  fastened  it  to  a  fine  chain  hang- 
ing in  her  breast. 

On  the  day  appointed  the  train  set  out  with 
camels    and    horses    which    the    Emir    had 
brought  to  convey  the  bride  and  her  party 
[60] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

to  his  home.  Zaphira  had  her  own  maids 
and  her  nurse,  and  they  were  the  only  women 
who  came  with  her,  for  she  took  leave  of  her 
mother  at  her  home.  Surrounded  by  her 
servants  on  camels,  she  travelled  in  the  centre 
in  a  rich  striped  silk  palanquin.  Selim  heard 
her  voice  as  she  rode  beside  her  father;  and 
it  had  already  carried  love  for  the  first  time 
to  his  heart. 

Arrived  at  El-Djezair,  the  Emir  housed 
Zaphira  and  her  father  in  a  fair  palace.  Now 
at  last  was  the  morning  when  she  would 
become  his  bride;  and  he  upon  the  roof 
watched  the  heavens  for  a  sign;  but  no  sign 
came,  save  that  the  dawn  crept  up  and  put 
out  the  morning  star. 

And  still  he  waited — for  it  was  a  new  world 
which  the  sun  revealed  to  him.  For  the  first 
time,  though  he  knew  not  why,  he  was  fully 
conscious  of  its  color,  its  fragrance,  and  the 
music  of  its  birds.  Then  there  rose  in  him 
the  poetic,  prophetic  spirit  which  dreams 
great  truths  before  they  are  laboriously  dis- 
covered; the  spirit  which  gave  us  the  Sun- 
myths,  in  which  the  Sun  and  the  Earth,  ideal- 
ized, become  but  one  man  and  one  woman. 
And  though  he  did  not  understand  that  the 
color  and  fragrance  and  music  were  all  pro- 
[61] 


ALGIERS 

duced  by  love,  and  are  only  fully  revealed  to 
the  human  heart  by  the  cause  which  made 
them,  he  felt,  as  all  true  lovers  must,  whether 
they  understand  or  not,  that  somehow  his 
love  expressed  and  embraced  the  whole  of 
the  universe. 

More  definitely  he  realized  that  sometimes 
it  is  given  to  one  man  or  one  woman  to  repre- 
sent a  nation.  Zaphira  was  a  princess  of  the 
Berbers;  he  was  Emir  of  the  Algerines.  His 
heart  seemed  to  hold  all  his  people.  Then 
he  looked  toward  the  fort  in  the  harbor,  and 
a  chill  crept  into  the  morning;  but  with  fresh 
resolution  he  descended  to  make  ready  for 
the  final  ceremonies. 

First  was  the  purification.  Afterward,  be- 
fore darkness  fell,  he  and  his  young  men  went 
to  prayer  in  the  mosque. 

In  the  meantime  it  was  not  necessary  for 
Zaphira  to  attend  the  public  baths,  with  all 
her  company  of  maidens  and  musicians,  as 
is  the  custom;  for  she  was  in  a  palace,  and 
to  music  in  the  outer  court  she,  within,  was 
bathed  in  the  fountain  and  adorned  in  rich 
robes,  that  she  might  be  displayed  before  her 
husband.  Her  maids  wished  to  clothe  her  in 
bright  colors,  but  she  would  have  naught 
except  pure  white  silk,  and  bracelets  and 
[62] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

anklets  like  fetters  of  gold.  Neither  did  she 
require  henna  for  her  hair,  since  there  was 
in  it  a  wonderful  red  tinge  from  some  Aryan 
blood  in  the  Berber  race.  When  all  was  done 
and  while  it  was  still  day,  the  grand  proces- 
sion set  out  for  her  husband's  palace,  that  all 
the  people  might  behold  it.  When  they  had 
made  a  circuit  of  the  city  and  had  drawn  near 
the  Emir's  palace,  the  servants  of  the  Emir 
went  out  to  meet  them.  But  the  bridegroom 
himself  was  at  prayer.  Then  a  lighted  lamp 
was  placed  in  the  hand  of  the  bride  to  signify 
that  she  was  to  be  the  light  of  the  bridegroom's 
house;  and  according  to  an  ancient  Berber 
custom — for  it  was  desired  to  combine  the 
customs  of  the  Arabs  and  the  Berbers  in  this 
wedding — the  master's  servants  lifted  the 
bride  and  bore  her  over  the  threshold  that 
she  might  enter  clean-footed.  Her  maids 
and  the  maid-servants  of  the  bridegroom 
gathered  about  her  in  the  great  court  and 
sang  and  danced  in  a  merry  ring;  while  the 
men-servants  cared  for  the  Berber  people; 
and  the  father  of  the  bride  and  his  friends  and 
relatives  had  full  possession  of  her  husband's 
palace. 

Then  came  the  bridegroom  and  his  friends 
bearing  torches — for  it  was  now  dark — and 
[63] 


ALGIERS 

they  entered  in  and  welcomed  the  company, 
and  the  veils  of  the  slave-girls  were  dropped. 
But  though  she  sat,  still  covered,  at  one  side 
of  the  company,  the  Emir  might  not  yet 
approach  his  bride. 

The  feast  was  spread.  And  the  grains  of 
the  couscous  which  was  used  on  that  occa- 
sion had  been  rolled  to  just  their  proper  size 
by  the  deft  hands  of  the  women,  and  had 
been  dried  in  the  sun,  when  the  old  Emir 
had  returned  from  the  betrothal  journey. 

Stories  and  mirth  ran  high,  but  the  Emir 
was  silent  and  scarcely  partook  of  food ;  while 
his  bride  from  her  side  saw  him  dimly,  her 
hand  on  the  charm  in  her  breast. 

When  the  feasting  was  over,  the  slave-girls 
set  before  the  bride  the  large  pan  and  sieve, 
the  flour  and  the  grains  of  fresh,  hard  wheat 
for  the  making  of  the  couscous,  to  signify  that 
from  henceforth  she  was  to  keep  the  house. 
After  which  the  guests  dispersed  in  com- 
panies; and  last  of  all  Haroun  embraced  his 
daughter,  kissed  his  son's  shoulder,  and  went 
out,  leaving  the  bride  with  her  nurse  and 
slave-maidens.  These  led  her  to  the  gallery, 
and  Selim  followed,  seating  himself  on  a  rich 
couch  before  the  apartments  set  aside  for  the 
bride.  Her  nurse  walked  the  slight  figure 
[64] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

around  the  court  and  brought  her  to  stand 
before  him  that  at  last  her  full  charms  might 
be  displayed.  Were  a  man  disposed  to  be 
haughty  and  to  make  his  wife  feel  her  subjec- 
tion to  him,  this  was  the  moment  to  reveal  it 
by  keeping  her  standing.  No  such  feeling 
possessed  the  Emir,  however;  and  the  sight  of 
the  golden  fetters  sent  a  strange  pang  to  his 
heart.  He  rose  quickly,  took  her  hand  and 
led  her  gently  to  sit  down,  while  he  stood  in 
her  place.  At  this  the  slave-maids  all  retired 
and  Selim  gave  the  old  nurse,  who  alone 
remained,  the  customary  piece  of  money  to 
withdraw.  Lamps  shed  a  soft  radiance  about 
the  two  figures.  The  sound  of  retreating 
footsteps  ceased  and  left  unbroken  silence; 
the  Emir  leaned  forward  slowly,  and  ex- 
claimed, in  a  voice  scarcely  audible,  with 
reverence,  "I  lift  the  veil!" 

When  it  was  done  he  stood  motionless, 
breathless — his  hand  resting  lightly  on  her 
head — ^for  not  even  his  wildest  thoughts  could 
have  imagined  a  face  so  beautiful  as  this. 
The  light  in  her  hair  made  it  a  halo  of  gold. 
She  was  looking  down  as  he  drew  aside  the 
veil,  and  slowly,  very  slowly,  she  raised  her 
long-lashed  eyelids  till  the  eyes  gazed  full 
into  his — and  there  was  no  need  of  words 
[65] 


ALGIERS 

between  them.  In  one  long  look  they  read 
all,  told  all. 

Golden  summer  days  followed  for  the  pair. 
One  ceremony  only,  after  the  wcddinp;,  had 
been  omitted.  It  is  the  custom  for  the  bride's 
uncle,  or  some  man  closely  related  to  her,  to 
cut  her  hair  from  her  forehead  on  the  day 
after  her  marriage,  so  that  no  one  except  her 
husband  may  possess  even  the  memory  of  her 
loveliness.*  But  Selim  would  not  haveZaphira 
marred,  and  he  was  not  afraid.  The  Emir 
already  knew  his  bride. 

The  two  spent  their  days  among  the  foun- 
tains and  the  lilies,  in  the  garden  which  the 
Emir  had  caused  to  be  planted  for  his  bride; 
and  from  which,  as  she  went  to  her  bath  in 
the  morning  she  could  just  look  over  the 
hedge  to  the  sea;  for  the  garden  was  on  a 
steep  hill  and  shut  in  with  cypress  trees 
where  the  nightingales  sang. 

With  full  summer  there  came  a  riotous 
burst  of  bloom,  following  the  long,  heavy 
rains.  Together  the  Emir  and  his  wife  had 
seen  all  the  flowering  of  the  orange  trees,  had 
watched  the  almond  blossoms  come  and  go, 

*  So  keenly  do  Orientals  feel  the  disgrace  which  a  woman  of 
their  family  may  bring  upon  them,  that,  in  case  of  suspicion,  they 
claim  the  right  to  take  her  from  her  husband  against  his  own 
protests  and  to  put  her  to  death  without  trial. 

[66] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

the  wistaria,  wild  lilies,  violets  and  asphodels. 
Some  were  native,  some  had  been  brought 
from  other  lands.  And  the  almond  blossoms 
were  like  pink  clouds  of  dawn;  the  wistaria 
festooned  itself  over  walls  and  cypresses;  the 
white  iris  in  the  shady  borders  was  as  a  spirit 
flower,  of  a  color  purer  and  a  texture  finer  than 
the  lily.  Yet  all  had  been  only  a  prelude  to 
the  roses,  countless  as  stars  and  closer,  large 
and  fragrant,  growing  in  a  wild  and  wonderful 
abandon  of  luxuriant  life.  But  with  them 
came  into  the  Emir's  radiant  life  a  curious 
sadness :  not  like  the  melancholy  of  the  dank, 
dark  forest  or  of  the  ebbing  tide;  but  the 
melancholy  of  too  much  color  and  fragrance, 
an  over-rich  development — the  floodtide  at 
the  turn — life  which  has  reached  only  at  its 
height,  the  consciousness  that  it  must  perish. 
And  that  is  the  melancholy  of  Algiers  to  this 
day. 

One  evening  as  the  two  walked  together  in 
the  garden,  the  Emir  spoke  of  it.  "See  how 
all  things  change,"  he  said.  "Must  it  be  so 
with  love.''  I  would  that  I  might  never  know 
it,  Zaphira,  but  might  perish,  triumphant  in 
love  at  its  height." 

Zaphira  put  her  hand  to  her  heart  and  it 
touched  the  charm.     She  sat  down  on  the 
[67] 


ALGIERS 

edge  of  a  fountain,  and  he  stood  before  her, 
as  he  had  on  her  wedding  night.  Zaphira 
was  wise  with  the  instinctive  wisdom  of 
women,  and  she  answered:  "What  thou 
needest  is  action.  Then  thou  wilt  come  to 
thy  love  without  sadness.  Hast  thou  no  task 
to  do?" 

The  Emir  flushed  as  he  thought  of  the 
task  laid  upon  him  by  his  father,  who  had 
given  him  his  bride.  "I  will  storm  the  fort," 
he  said. 

Zaphira's  eyes  were  large  and  dark,  but 
without  fear.  "When  thou  takest  the  fort, 
thy  love  shall  be  made  perfect  without  change," 
she  whispered,  as  if  in  awe. 

So  the  Emir  set  about  such  preparations 
as  had  never  been  made  before ;  for  he  meant 
to  take  his  time,  and  not  to  attack  the  fort  in 
sudden  rage,  as  his  father  had.  Accordingly 
two  young  spies  were  sent  out,  pretending 
they  fled  from  the  Emir's  wrath.  He  saw 
that  they  were  received.  Two  days  later,  he 
and  all  his  people  beheld  them  suspended  upon 
the  wall  of  the  stronghold. 

When  his  stores  and  his  men  were  concen- 
trated, the  Emir  bombarded  the  fortress,  but 
with  less  fortune  than  Teumi  had;  for  the 
Orientals  can  only  fight  well  under  the 
[68] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

inspiration  of  a  fiery  leader;  and  the  long, 
cool  preparations  and  discipline  of  their 
enemies  are  no  more  deadly  to  them  than 
such  preparations  or  attempts  at  discipline 
on  their  own  side.  They  could  not  be  kept 
at  their  guns,  but  fled  from  the  answering  fire 
of  the  fort.  Houses  in  the  city  were  demol- 
ished, but  the  fortress  seemed  charmed  against 
injury,  and  a  superstition  took  hold  of  the 
people,  so  that  at  last  they  would  not  fight  at 
all.  Then  the  Emir  sat  among  his  counsel- 
lors with  his  head  in  his  hand;  and  they 
tried  to  solace  him  with  stories,  for  stories 
will  usually  divert  and  console  the  Oriental 
heart  in  its  direst  distress.  Nevertheless,  the 
Emir  seemed  not  to  hear  them.  Braver  him- 
self than  those  who  strike  in  fiery  passion, 
his  first  effort  had  been  failure;  and  what 
consolation,  except  previous  success,  can  ever 
avail  in  the  first  great  failure.?  At  last  he 
said: 

"Tell  me  true  history — no  tales  of  love,  for 
mine  is  better;  and  the  only  comfort  for  me 
is  the  knowledge  of  other  men's  successful 
deeds!" 

Then  one  answered:  "My  master,  there 
are  stories — but  we  told  thee  not,  lest  thou 
shouldst  be  too  impatient  with  thy  poor 
[69] 


ALGIERS 

people.  There  are  two  brothers,  Greeks, — 
sons,  they  say,  of  a  poor  man  of  the  island  of 
Mitylene, — and  the  eldest,  especially,  has  made 
himself  master  of  men  and  of  ships,  and  what- 
ever he  touches  is  his.  Baba-Aroudj,  the 
Corsair,  has  come  sailing  out  of  the  East." 
The  Emir  lifted  his  head.  "Tell  me  of 
him,"  he  said.  So  one  after  another  rehearsed 
tales  of  the  Barbarossa  brothers,  Horush 
Baba-Aroudj  and  Khair-ed-din — elaborating 
picturesquely  the  rumors  which  had  only 
begun  to  reach  El-Djezair  from  fugitives  and 
sailors.  The  Emir  bade  them  tell  him  more 
and  more;  and  they  taxed  their  wits  and 
imaginations.  Thus  he  sat  with  them  day 
after  day,  and  always  there  was  more  to  tell. 
They  brought  before  him  those  who  had 
carried  the  news — sometimes  a  sea-captain, 
sometimes  a  traveling  merchant.  All  the 
city  now  heard  of  the  victorious  career  of  the 
Corsairs — how  port  after  port  was  falling 
before  them.  Then  thought  Selim,  "If  I 
do  not  ally  myself  with  these  Barbarossas,  we 
shall  surely  fall  into  their  hands.  They  are 
Mohammedans  and  strong;  I  will  call  upon 
them  for  aid,  and  so  the  fort  shall  be  taken 
from  the  Christians."  His  counselors  ap- 
proved what  he  said.  But  when,  triumphant 
[70] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

in  his  solution,  which  would  remove  the  dan- 
ger and  make  it  a  means  of  removing  the 
insult,  he  told  Zaphira  in  the  garden;  she 
grew  very  white  and  gasped.  "It  is  the 
sea!"  she  cried;  but  he  knew  not  what  she 
meant. 

Messengers  were  dispatched  to  Horush 
Baba-Aroudj  and  he  gaily  accepted  the  mis- 
sion. Feared  by  all  men,  an  outlaw  save  for 
the  strength  of  his  sword,  and  living  by  the 
terror  he  created,  was  there  something  in 
him  still  which  made  him  prouder  to  be  a 
friend  than  a  foe,  and  glad  to  have  a  religious 
mission  to  which  to  apply  his  power.?  Who 
shall  say  that  Baba-Aroudj  did  not  mean  well 
when  he  started  for  El-Djezair.? — taking  with 
him  five  thousand  soldiers,  while  Khair-ed- 
din,  his  brother — Khair-of-the-faith — was  to 
follow  by  sea  to  help  him  if  help  were  needed. 
However,  as  Baba-Aroudj  drew  nearer  to  El- 
Djezair,  though  yet  a  long  way  off,  he  began 
to  hear  of  the  marvelous  beauty  of  the  Berber 
princess,  the  Emir's  wife,  with  her  halo  of 
golden  hair.  And  Baba-Aroudj's  own  hair 
and  beard  were  red.  By  the  time  he  had 
reached  the  city,  El-Djezair  had  become  to 
him  just  this  one  woman. 

Baba-Aroudj  was  resolved  to  possess  Za- 
[71] 


ALGIERS 

phira.  When  he  arrived,  the  Emir  welcomed 
him  with  more  than  his  customary  cordial 
hospitality;  for  was  not  this  man  of  fire  a 
deliverer?  Baba-Aroudj,  crude  and  uncouth, 
responded  to  his  host's  gracious  care  by  pre- 
senting him  with  numerous  and  magnificent 
gifts,  gathered  in  piracy  from  every  quarter 
of  the  Mediterranean:  vessels  of  gold  and  of 
silver,  perfume,  and  slaves. 

At  dusk  the  Emir  left  his  guest,  that  he 
might  keep  tryst  with  Zaphira  in  her  garden. 
As  they  sat  among  the  lilies  beside  the  foun- 
tain, her  hair  held  a  glow  like  the  sunset,  as 
if  it  had  gathered  into  itself  all  the  sunshine 
of  the  day.  The  Emir  was  joyous,  triumph- 
ant in  the  certainty  of  success,  which  was  yet 
hope;  and  as  fear  is  worse  than  any  evil,  so 
is  hope  better  than  any  good.  Zaphira  loved 
him  best  when  he  was  alert  for  manly  action; 
and  he  was  surprised  afresh  in  his  love  for 
her  by  richer  womanly  grace  and  tenderness 
than  she  had  yet  revealed  to  him,  or  indeed, 
had  been  capable  of  revealing;  for  even  as 
he  hoped,  so  she  feared,  and  fear  had  un- 
locked the  deeps  of  her  nature.  When  he 
left  her  to  attend  to  the  comfort  of  his  guest, 
Selim  said  to  her,  "My  happiness  is  per- 
fect." 

[72] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

In  the  morning  the  Emir  went,  as  was  his 
custom,  to  the  bath  before  the  early  prayer. 
His  new  slaves  bore  the  water  in  the  rich,  new 
vessels  and  made  the  bath  fragrant  with  the 
perfumes  from  the  East.  Selim  stepped  into 
the  water.  Suddenly  he  felt  himself  in  the 
grip  of  a  powerful  force,  which  came  from 
a  man's  hands.  There  was  an  instant's 
terrible  struggle,  too  fierce  for  thought— and 
the  Emir  had  passed  out  of  life  on  its  full 
tide — as  he  had  wished,  while  the  joy  of  his 
love  had  known  no  change,  and  his  heart  was 
high  in  the  thought  of  victories  to  be  won. 

Men  said  that  he  had  been  strangled. 
When  news  was  brought  to  Baba-xAroudj,  he 
expressed  the  deepest  sorrow,  and  declared 
that  it  was  his  right  and  also  due  to  the  rank 
of  the  Emir,  that  he  should  pay  the  dead  man 
every  respect  and  honor,  and  should  help  to 
accord  him  such  a  funeral  and  tomb  as  had 
not  been  seen  in  El-Djezair.  And  none  was 
strong  enough  to  say  the  Corsair  nay.  Yet 
not  only  did  he  never  see  Zaphira's  face — 
but  he  could  never  enter  the  apartment  where 
Selim  lay,  when  her  shrouded  figure  was 
present ;  and  he  never  heard  her  voice  among 
the  wailing  mourners.  He  felt  sure  that  he 
would  have  known  it  if  he  had.  Zaphira 
[73] 


ALGIERS 

remained  for  him  a  myth,  an  ideal,  for 
which  he  had  sacrificed  the  last  good  left  in 
him. 

When  the  funeral  was  over,  Baba-Aroudj 
took  the  slaves  and  withdrew  from  the  house 
of  mourning.  A  fort  was  built  for  him  by 
his  men,  far  out  on  a  rocky  point;  and  there 
he  lived;  and  from  there,  with  his  soldiers, 
he  was  master  without  effort  of  the  rulerless 
city.  There  he  bided  his  time.  For  it  trans- 
pired that  on  his  way  he  had  vanquished  the 
Berber  allies  of  the  nearer  mountains.  When 
the  appointed  days  of  mourning  were  expired, 
he  sent  a  message  to  Zaphira,  pitying  her  in 
her  forlorn  position  and  claiming  it  as  his 
right,  since  the  accident  had  happened  through 
slaves  whom  he  had  brought,  to  marry  her 
and  maintain  her  in  her  proper  rank. 

Still  the  unbroken  silence.  Horush  Baba- 
Aroudj  dwelt  night  and  day  upon  the  thought 
of  her,  neglecting  to  storm  the  fort.  Again 
he  sent  a  letter,  not  patronizing  now,  nor 
claiming  anything,  but  beseeching  the  princess 
to  be  his  queen.  The  letter  was  brought  to 
Zaphira  as  she  lay  white  and  still  on  her 
couch.  When  she  had  read  it,  she  sat  up; 
the  color  returned  to  her  cheeks,  the  bright- 
ness to  her  eyes.  So  that  was  it!  She  did 
[74] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

not  know  that  she  was  the  cause  of  the  treach- 
ery which  had  broken  her  life;  but  she  did 
know  that  if  he  wished  to  possess  her  for 
herself,  revenge  was  in  her  hand.  She  broke 
the  silence  with  this  message:  "Zaphira  will 
never  marry  while  the  murder  of  her  husband 
remains  unavenged." 

Then  Baba-Aroudj  took  hope  and  heart, 
and  set  himself  zealously  to  work,  behead- 
ing thirty  men,  after  pretending  an  investiga- 
tion. This  task  accomplished,  he  sent  again 
to  Zaphira,  telling  her  that  all  were  dead  who 
were  concerned  in  the  crime,  and  that  there 
was  no  longer  any  barrier  between  them. 
Zaphira  did  not  hesitate.  Not  to  kill  him 
could  she  marry  him.  She  wrote  him  one 
sentence:  "Thou,  and  thou  only,  art  the 
murderer  of  my  husband." 

Upon  this,  love  turned  to  fury  in  the  heart 
of  Baba-Aroudj ;  and  he  wrote  her  arrogantly 
and  insolently  how  he  would  have  her  by 
force.  Zaphira  read  the  message  and  stood 
breathing  hard,  with  that  look  in  her  eyes 
with  which  she  had  once  faced  her  father. 
"I  will  die,  but  I  will  not  marry  him,"  she 
said  to  her  old  nurse;  ''and  I  will  not  die  by 
his  hand."  She  drew  out  the  charm  from  her 
bosom  and  it  glowed  like  a  drop  of  blood. 
[75] 


ALGIERS 

In  this  moment  of  fearful  need,  the  nurse 
smiled  on  her  as  she  had  in  the  days  when 
Zaphira  was  a  child. 

"My  lamb,  it  was  I,  who,  fearing  thy 
beauty,  gave  thee  that  charm.  I  had  it  from 
my  husband,  a  sea-captain,  who  found  it 
amid  his  other  spoil." 

Even  as  they  spoke  they  heard  the  sound  of 
soldiers'  feet,  and  a  turmoil  at  the  gates. 
Baba-Aroudj  had  meant  to  give  Zaphira  no 
chance  to  attempt  escape,  no  time  even  to 
think.  There  could  be  but  one  issue  to  the 
struggle.  Yet,  though  her  women  quailed, 
Zaphira  lost  all  fear  at  the  first  sounds.  She 
called  for  a  glass,  and  the  old  nurse  brought 
it  her.  She  cracked  the  tiny  jewel  and 
poured  its  contents  into  the  water;  and  she 
waited,  but  not  because  she  was  afraid.  As 
she  held  the  glass  in  her  hand,  she  was  strong 
with  a  new  strength.  It  was  not  long  to  wait. 
The  cries  and  din  of  the  strife  at  the  gate 
were  soon  over.  A  crash  told  them  the  inner 
door  was  down.  Tramping  feet  could  be 
heard  through  the  master's  room  to  the 
inner  court,  ascending  the  stairs,  coming 
along  the  gallery.  The  door  of  Zaphira's 
apartment  burst  open,  and  Baba-Aroudj 
stood  within  it,  holding  back  his  men. 
[76] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

Zaphira  also  stood  before  her  women, 
pride  rendering  that  last  moment  of  her  life 
the  supreme  moment  of  her  matchless  beauty. 
Thus  is  sometimes  vouchsafed  to  men  a 
vision  of  what  they  have  striven  for,  w'aether 
by  good  means  or  ill;  but,  if  by  ill,  it  may  be 
only  to  haunt  them  forever.  While  he  stood 
spell-bound,  Zaphira  raised  the  glass  and 
drained  it,  exclaiming,  "Selim,  1  only  regret 
that  I  did  not  come  to  thee  before.  I  keep 
thine  honor." 

Then  she  fell  forward  at  the  pirate's  feet, 
dead.  She  did  not  pass  alone.  Rage  at  his 
hopeless,  helpless  love  took  possession  of 
Baba-Aroudj,  and  he  turned  upon  her  maidens 
and  her  old  nurse  and  slew  them  with  his  own 
hand,  the  swiftest  and  most  merciful  of  the 
fates  which  awaited  them. 

Madly  Horush  Baba-Aroudj  plunged  into 
war,  never  able,  night  nor  day,  to  lose  the 
memory  of  that  face,  the  vision  of  the  impos- 
sible, which  had  forever  stricken  hope  from 
his  soul.  Men  said  that  he  fought  like  a 
devil — but  it  had  always  been  in  his  blood. 
Two  years  later,  the  city  of  El-Djezair,  which 
Zaphira  had  personified  to  him,  also  faded 
from  his  eyes,  as  he  lay  dying  of  a  Spaniard's 
thrust.  The  Spanish  had  sent  an  army 
[77] 


ALGIERS 

against    him,    and    he    had     not    taken    the 
fort. 

However,  Khair-ed-din,  his  brother,  cap- 
tured it  soon  after,  and  saved  El-Djezair 
from  Christian  domination  for  a  new  period 
which  lasted  three  hundred  years.  More- 
over, he  inaugurated  the  Mussulman  piracy 
against  the  Christian  world;  and  made  El- 
Djezair  the  center  of  the  raids,  so  that  she 
became  known  among  Mohammedans  as  the 
City  of  the  Holy  Wars,  and  was  unmatched 
in  history  for  her  pride,  considering  the  little- 
ness of  her  real  strength.  Khair-ed-din  united 
the  mainland  with  the  island  on  which  the 
fort  had  stood,  and  so  formed  an  inner 
harbor.  Upon  the  one  remaining  tower  of 
the  fort,  his  grandson,  Hassan,  erected  the 
lighthouse,  the  beautiful  white  guardian  of 
El-Djezair,  strangely  charmed  in  all  bom- 
bardments of  the  city,  coming  out  of  the 
clouds  of  smoke,  miraculously  unharmed. 
And  beneath  it,  over  the  door  in  its  fortress 
base  to  this  day  may  be  seen  the  Spanish 
coat-of-arms. 

The  ships  come   and  go   in  the   harbor — 
what    messages    of   life    and    death    do    they 
bring .'^     It  is  past  sunset  now  and  I  sit  beside 
[78] 


A    DREAM    OF    EL-DJEZAIR 

my  table  with  its  candles,  while  the  sound  of 
the  evening  bell  floats  in  at  the  open  window. 
I  think  it  is  raining  softly — there  has  been 
much  rain  of  late.  The  almond  blossoms 
are  gone  and  the  iris  flowers  too,  but  the 
asphodels  cover  the  fields. 


[79] 


PALACE  SECRETS 


PALACE  SECRETS 

THE  great  palace  of  the  Deys  is  gone ; 
but  closely  embedded  in  the  old 
town  are  fragments,  gems  whose 
setting  has  been  destroyed.  There  is  a  foun- 
tain in  the  wall  of  the  Rue  des  Palais  Vieux, 
covered  with  French  posters;  there  are  the 
palaces  of  the  present  Governor  and  the 
Archbishop.  The  Governor's  palace  beside 
the  present  cathedral  belonged  to  Hassan 
Dey  and  has  a  new  and  unnatural  fa9ade. 
The  Archbishop's,  across  the  Cathedral  square, 
is  called  by  the  Arabs  the  Palace  of  the  Sul- 
tan's Daughter,  and  is  an  exquisite  bit  of 
architecture,  where  busts  and  religious  paint- 
ings look  strangely  out  of  place.  And  there 
is  the  palace  of  Mustapha  Dey,  now  the 
National  Library,  which  once  contained  the 
Museum  also  and  so  sheltered  for  many  years 
the  tombstone  of  its  former  owner. 

Each  of  these  palaces  is  built  about  the 
inevitable  court,  the  essential  feature  of  every 
Oriental  dwelling.     It  is  "the  middle  of  the 
[83] 


ALGIERS 

house"  referred  to  in  Hebrew  scripture, 
where  marriage  and  all  ceremonies  and  gather- 
ings took  place.  A  shade  above  the  opening 
may  be  drawn  across  the  sky  and  suggests 
to  us  the  Psalmist's  simile:  "Spreading  out 
the  heavens  like  a  curtain."  The  courts  are 
surrounded  by  a  row  of  columns  and  horse- 
shoe] arches  upholding  the  gallery,  and  a 
second  row  supporting  the  roof.  No  two  of 
the  arches  are  exactly  alike,  for  they  were 
always  measured  by  the  eye  and  thus  have 
the  intimate  charm  of  that  which  is  not 
mechanical.  In  the  stately  palaces  there  are 
also  outer  courts,  but  it  is  about  the  four 
sides  of  the  inner  one  both  below  and  around 
the  gallery  that  we  find  the  usual  long  and 
narrow  rooms — very  narrow,  because  their 
width  was  regulated  by  the  ceiling  beams, 
which  were  sometimes  cedars  of  Lebanon, 
and  were  never  more  than  twelve  feet  long. 
In  many  palaces  these  were  the  woinen's 
apartments  opening  on  the  gallery  of  the 
inner  court;  in  others,  like  the  Kasba,  there 
was  a  separate  harem  court  or  building. 

The  house  of  Mustapha  is  entered  through 

the  magnificent  vestibule,  the  reception  room 

of   the   master,   probably  the  finest  example 

of  such  a  room  remaining  in  Algiers.     Above 

[84] 


PALACE  SECRETS 

the  stone  benches  on  both  sides  are  the  dis- 
tinctive Algerian  arches,  springing  like  the 
horseshoe,  but  flattened  on  top.  A  passage 
leads  into  the  court,  which  a  turn  at  right 
angles  conceals  from  view. 

On  the  day  when  we  stood  in  the  upper 
gallery  the  rain  was  falling  in  a  silver  shower 
upon  the  tiles  below.  We  refreshed  our 
minds  with  the  old  stories;  for  it  is  to  this 
palace  we  must  come  and  come  again  for  the 
fountains  of  our  information;  and  within 
these  enchanted  Moorish  walls  we  find  our- 
selves taken  back  in  books  and  paintings  to 
the  old  city  as  it  was.  We  are  conscious  of 
the  romance  of  the  East,  which  is  concen- 
trated here  and  here  becomes  self-conscious. 
In  this  deserted  court  we  catch  the  life  which, 
passing,  haunts  it  still. 

The  palace  itself  reveals  to  us  how,  when 
the  last  Moors  had  been  driven  from  Spain 
to  Africa,  Isabella,  in  the  Alhambra,  must 
have  been  filled  with  wonder  and  romance, 
and,  believing  nothing  impossible,  sent  Co- 
lumbus on  his  wild  quest.  We  know  how 
Ferdinand's  fleets  pursued  the  Moors,  and 
placed  a  chain  of  forts  before  their  cities. 
One  watched  the  harbor  of  the  Algerines. 

It  was  then  that  Baba-Aroudj,  the  Corsair, 
[85] 


ALGIERS 

came  sailing  out  of  the  East,  and,  strangling 
the  Emir,  made  himself  master  of  El-Djezair. 
Khair-ed-din,  his  brother,  succeeding  him, 
found  himself  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice,  the 
hostile  Spaniards  about  him,  the  hostile  Moors 
below.  He  appealed  to  the  Sultan  at  Con- 
stantinople and  made  himself  the  Sultan's 
vassal.  Then  were  sent  two  thousand  Turk- 
ish braves  or  Janissaries.  The  fort  fell. 
El-Djezair  was  under  Turkish  rule. 

Khair-ed-din  connected  the  island  with 
the  mainland  by  a  jetty  which  is  said  to  have 
taken  thirty  thousand  Christian  slaves  some 
three  years  to  construct.  Thus  a  harbor  was 
enclosed,  which  to-day  forms  the  inner  and 
military  harbor  of  the  French  Algiers. 

The  story  of  the  Turkish  period,  thus 
begun,  is  written  in  blood.  Gradually  the 
Janissaries  increased  in  power.  They  de- 
manded from  the  Sultan  who  appointed  the 
Pacha  or  Dey,  an  Agha  to  represent  their 
rights,  the  Agha  to  be  elected  from  their 
number  by  themselves.  Finally,  after  a  revo- 
lution, they  gained  the  privilege  of  electing 
the  Dey.  His  election  was  now  merely  sanc- 
tioned by  the  Sultan,  after  having  been 
heralded  by  a  magnificent  gift.  Thereafter, 
the  fort  on  Cape  Matifou  no  longer  saluted 
[86] 


PALACE  SECRETS 

incoming  rulers  when  their  ships  were  de- 
scried, approaching  from  the  East.  El-Djezair 
had  become  to  all  intents  and  purposes  an 
independent  government  of  the  Turkish  sol- 
diers. Such  was  the  historical  consequence 
of  the  Barbarossas'  deed. 

The  Dey  was  now  the  Janissaries'  tool, 
murdered  whenever  they  became  dissatisfied, 
or  when  a  rival  faction  to  that  which  had 
elected  him  increased  in  strength.  Yet  no 
one  could  refuse  to  serve,  and  scarcely  any 
died  a  natural  death.  The  factions  between 
the  Janissaries  caused  constant  strife. 

Upon  one  memorable  day  the  divisions 
were  so  nearly  matched  that  five  rulers,  it  is 
said,  were  elected  by  first  one  and  then  the 
other,  and  as  quickly  murdered  by  the  oppo- 
site side;  until,  in  despair  of  agreement  or 
fear  of  self-annihilation,  they  decided  to  go 
forth  and  to  consider  as  the  chosen  one  the 
first  man  whom  they  met  leaving  the  mosque 
from  evening  prayer.  He  chanced  to  be  a 
poor  cobbler  around  whom  they  congregated 
and  addressed  him  as  "Dey!"  Poor  man! 
The  Arabian  Nights  had  come  too  true  for 
him.  His  knees  knocked  together  and  he 
besought  them  of  their  mercy  to  let  him  go 
his  way.  But  there  was  no  escape  for  him; 
[87] 


ALGIERS 

and  it  is  recorded  of  him  that  he  made  one  of 
the  wisest  and  best  of  the  rulers  of  this  period. 
For  his  predecessors,  the  five  less  than  ephem- 
eral sovereigns  of  a  day,  five  magnificent 
tombstones  side  by  side  commemorate  their 
names. 

Though  the  Turks  kept  no  clear  records, 
their  relations  with  other  countries  are  written 
in  the  records  of  all  of  them.  El-Djezair,  the 
Valiant,  became  from  the  time  of  the  Corsair 
Baba-Aroudj  the  City  of  the  Holy  Wars,  the 
headquarters  of  Mussulman  piracy,  and  the 
seat  of  an  unparalleled  slavery.  That  Dey 
who  most  encouraged  these  depredations  was 
most  popular  at  home  and  therefore  most 
secure.  Christian  captives  of  every  race  and 
rank  were  subjected  to  the  most  incredible 
hardships,  as  Sir  Lambert  Playf air's  "  Scourge 
of  Christendom"  makes  only  too  clear.  On 
no  less  an  authority  could  some  of  the  tales 
be  believed. 

And  what  did  the  European  nations  do.^ 
England  is  a  fair  example  of  the  rest.  Among 
her  quaint  old  books  is  one  discussing  the 
matter  of  Christian  slavery  in  Algiers  (as  it 
was  called  in  English),  and  pleading  that 
Parliament  should  ransom  British  subjects. 
The  question  was  discussed  and  ransoms 
[88] 


PALACE    SECRETS 

were  paid  from  time  to  time.  Yet  Charles 
II.  signed  one  of  the  most  humiliating  treaties 
ever  made  by  the  English  nation,  in  which  he 
disclaimed  any  responsibility  for  freeing  Brit- 
ish subjects  in  captivity.  Individuals  might 
ransom  them  if  possible.  It  was  not  a  mat- 
ter in  which  the  government  would  interfere. 

So  for  three  hundred  years  this  piracy  in 
the  Mediterranean  and  on  the  Seas,  this 
slavery  at  the  gates  of  Europe,  stole  from  her 
nations  many  of  their  best.  And  for  three 
hundred  years  those  Christian  civilized  na- 
tions might  so  easily  have  crushed  it — reports 
of  the  weakness  of  the  fortifications  and  the 
smallness  of  the  navy  often  reached  them — 
yet  for  three  hundred  years  they  permitted 
it  to  exist,  nay,  fostered  its  existence,  paying 
the  tribute  demanded  for  immunity  in  guns 
and  ammunition  to  be  used  against  them- 
selves. And  all  because  of  that  world-old  fear 
that  one  of  them  should  gain  more  than 
another;  and  that  still  more  reprehensible 
desire  to  maintain  this  scourge  for  use  against 
each  other.  Said  one  of  the  monarchs  of 
France,  "If  there  were  no  Algiers  I  would 
create  one!" 

Yet  France,  her  nearest  neighbor,  was  in 
most  constant  feud  with  her,  and  the  greatest 
[89] 


ALGIERS 

sufferer.  Against  France  she  leveled  her 
most  daring  insults.  And  always,  upon  the 
approach  of  avenging  French  vessels,  the 
French  consul  was  imprisoned,  and  in  some 
cases — I  quote  Col.  Playfair — shot  from  a 
cannon.  Once,  so  Col.  Playfair  records, 
when  a  French  fleet  anchored  in  the  harbor, 
the  consul  was  shot  out  to  them  from  a  mor- 
tar. The  cannon  is  now  preserved  at  Brest. 
The  Algerines  called  it  Father  Fortunate; 
the  French,  La  Consulaire. 

That  Mustapha  Dey,  who  began  his  reign 
in  1799,  confirmed  all  the  former  iniquity  of 
Algiers  against  France.  On  the  thirtieth  of 
September,  1800,  the  great  Napoleon  himself 
agreed  to  a  humiliating  peace.  He  had  larger 
matters  on  his  hands  and,  being  unable  to 
concentrate  a  force  across  the  water,  signed  a 
treaty  to  the  effect  that  bygones  should  be 
bygones  and  the  French  should  pay  300,000 
piastres  to  the  Dey.  This  humiliation  not 
appearing  sufficient  to  the  Sultan  at  Con- 
stantinople, the  French  consul  and  all  his 
countrymen  were  forced  to  leave  Algiers. 

To  Mustapha  Dey  came  the  frigate  George 

Washington  to  arrange  for  the  tribute  from 

the  United  States.     This  vessel,  lying  in  the 

entrance  to  the  harbor,  was  what  Mustapha 

[90] 


PALACE    SECRETS 

needed  to  carry  his  accession  gift  to  the  Sul- 
tan at  the  Porte;  and  he  promptly  requisi- 
tioned the  frigate,  much  to  the  indignation 
of  the  people  of  our  country,  who  were  slow 
to  feel  that  we  must  follow  the  example  of  the 
older  states  of  Europe. 

It  is  interesting  to  know  in  this  connection 
that  in  after  years  the  United  States  became 
the  first  of  the  nations  to  refuse  to  pay  tribute 
to  the  Algerine  Deys;  that  England  still 
later,  in  1816,  roused  herself  and  suppressed 
forever  the  Christian  slavery;  and  that,  at 
the  taking  of  Algiers  in  1830,  the  French  fol- 
lowed the  plans  and  suggestions  of  a  United 
States  consul. 

Long  before  this,  Mustapha  himself,  the 
arrogant  ruler  of  the  last  of  the  eighteenth 
century,  found  himself  powerless  in  the  hands 
of  his  own  Janissaries,  and  fled,  so  tradition 
tells  us,  to  his  summer  palace,  now  the 
Chateau  d'Hydra,  where  he  was  captured 
through  treachery  and  murdered. 

He  was  one  of  the  last  of  the  Deys,  for  the 
iniquity  of  the  Janissaries  was  well-nigh 
accomplished.  The  story  of  Turkish  evil  in 
Algiers  is  finished. 


[91] 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  DEYS 


THE  PASSING  OF  THE  DEYS 

THE  incoming  tide  of  light  floods  the 
little  room  in  the  villa.  The  large 
French  windows  stand  wide  open 
to  it,  and  it  falls  upon  the  warm-hued  rugs 
and  the  small  hexagonal  red  tiles,  such  as  are 
used  everywhere  about  Algiers  in  both  French 
and  Moorish  houses.  It  reaches  one  corner 
of  the  writing  table  before  an  old  gilt  mirror, 
and  touches  to  brightness  the  inevitable  old- 
world  pair  of  candles  that  after  dark-fall  shed 
a  dim,  religious  light;  and  it  wakes  the  flowers 
the  dear  little  French  maid  Sophie  always 
keeps  there,  in  order  that  whenever  we  enter 
we  may  be  greeted  by  the  fragrance  and  the 
color  which  suggest  the  larger  world  just 
outside. 

It  is  the  villa  in  the  orange  grove,  beneath 
whose  trees  grow  narcissi  and  violets,  where 
roses  climb  the  steps  below  the  windows,  and 
the  air  is  full  of  the  scent  of  blossoms  and 
the  song  of  birds.  There  are  moonlit  nights 
in  the  orange  grove  when  the  moonbeams 
[95] 


ALGIERS 

blend  with  the  fragrance;  and  dark  nights, 
when  Sophie,  among  the  rose  vines  in  the 
doorway,  holds  high  her  lamp  above  her 
head  to  guide  the  guests  to  the  hotel;  and 
hearing  their  returning  footsteps  comes  out 
to  light  them  m  again. 

But  now  it  is  morning  in  Mustapha — 
Mustapha,  high  on  the  Sahel  and  nearer  the 
curve  of  the  bay  than  is  the  city  of  Algiers. 
Across  its  waters  are  snow-capped  mountains. 
On  our  own  side,  nearer  the  sea,  a  profile  of 
Algiers  on  her  hills.  From  our  windows  we 
can  watch  the  ships  come  and  go  in  the  har- 
bor, and  the  thousand  changes  of  expression 
of  the  white  city  guarded  by  its  fortress  light, 
and  now  glowing  brightly  under  the  risen  sun. 

Gradually  from  the  distance  there  grows 
the  sound  of  singing,  swelling  ever  fuller,  a 
jaunty  rhythmic  air  with  yet  a  minor  cadence 
that  never  fails  in  martial  music. 

"Ah  oui,  c'est  qu'elle  est  belle  avec  ces  chateaux  forts, 
Couches  dans  les  pres  verts,  comme  les  geants  morts! 
C'est  qu'elle  est  noble,  Alger  la  fiUe  du  corsaire ! 
Un  reseau  de  murs  blanc  la  protege  et  I'enserre." 

It  is  the  French  soldiers  riding  by,  with  their 

Turkish  costumes  and  horses  of  Arab  breed. 

Sunlight,  the  French  soldiers — it  is  To-day. 

High  noon   brings   us   to  luncheon  at  the 

[96] 


'Txr'£ 


^ 


THE    PASSING    OF    THE    DEYS 

Chateau  d'Hydra  over  against  Mustapha, 
near  the  village  of  Birmandreis.  For  miles 
it  commands  the  country  and  some  of  those 
miles  are  its  own.  Vineyard  and  field  stretch 
in  every  direction.  We  enter  the  large  outer 
garden  with  its  palm-bordered  drives,  pass 
under  the  great  gate  and  across  the  first 
court,  leaving  the  carriage  at  the  entrance  to 
the  second.  On  one  side  of  the  second  court 
is  the  doorway  to  the  house  proper.  It  leads 
into  the  master's  old  reception-room,  the  long, 
narrow  hall,  with  the  stone  bench  running 
the  entire  length — now  used  to  receive  our 
outer  wraps.  At  one  end  of  this  room  is  a 
tiled  stairway  in  the  wall.  It  turns  once  and 
brings  us  at  last  to  the  heart  of  the  house. 
We  have  entered  the  inmost  court.  Such  a 
marvelous  little  gem!  The  twisted  pillars 
which  support  its  arches  under  the  galleries 
are  arranged  in  pairs,  Alhambra  fashion. 
Under  the  soft  light,  in  this  secluded  and 
exquisite  centre  of  an  Eastern  palace,  our 
hostess  greets  us — a  woman,  not  out  of  place 
in  it  because  a  product  of  all  preceding  days 
and  of  all  countries — a  charming  American! 
It  is  a  very  modern  luncheon  where  con- 
versation flows  in  various  streams  in  as  many 
languages,  and  a  merry  party  gain  different 
[97] 


ALGIERS 

points  of  view.  The  dining-room  itself  and 
the  library  are  long,  narrow  apartments  on 
opposite  sides  of  the  court.  In  the  library 
the  vaulted  ceiling  and  the  tiling  of  the  walls 
are  very  fine.  This  chateau  possesses  the 
rarest  collection  of  tiles,  near  Algiers.  From 
the  library,  after  luncheon,  we  wander  into 
the  inner  garden,  which  must  in  Oriental 
days  have  been  the  garden  of  the  harem. 
It  is  full  of  white  lilies ;  and  here  is  the  unfail- 
ing fountain,  its  black  waters  reflecting  the 
white  roses  which  dip  into  it  under  delicate 
and  closely  overhanging  pepper  trees.  The 
present  owner  tells  us  she  has  arranged  the 
spot  to  look  as  much  as  possible  like  the 
scene  of  Beauty  and  the  Beast. 

Oh,  these  villas  and  these  villa  gardens  of 
Mustapha  and  of  El-Biar — The  Well — above 
Mustapha!  What  romance  of  another  life 
clings  to  them  to  make  the  present  richer  by 
possession  and  by  contrast.  For  though  some 
of  them  are  French,  and  some  are  improved 
and  sunnier  copies,  others,  like  this,  are 
genuinely  Moorish.  Cold  and  comfortless, 
the  unchanged  Moorish  houses  may  appear; 
with  their  tiled  floors,  the  scant  amount  of 
sun  admitted  from  without,  and  the  rain 
often  falling,  a  fountain  from  heaven,  straight 
[98] 


THE    PASSING    OF    THE    DEYS 

into  the  court.  But  they  are  still  warm  with 
a  presence;  and  many  a  story  is  buried  where 
romance  lingers  in  their  glorious  gardens, 
hedged  in  and  terraced  on  the  hills.  The 
hills  form  a  different  setting  for  each  one; 
and  even  in  the  new  estates  the  roses  have 
recalled  the  other  days — it  is  in  the  very  soil 
— and  they  cover  all  things  in  a  gracious 
tangle  of  luxuriant  and  continuous  life. 

Every  old  garden  is  a  remembrance.  Each 
house  has  its  special  interest  and  its  story.  In 
the  garret  of  one  was  discovered  an  English 
name  written  by  a  captive;  and  a  short  time 
ago  that  same  Moorish  dwelling,  now  in- 
habited by  English  people,  was  visited  by 
the  grandson  of  its  former  owner,  who  rode 
up  in  an  automobile  to  see  the  ancestral 
estate!  This  is  but  one  of  the  incongruities 
which  cause  us  a  mingling  of  smiles  and  of 
tears. 

The  note  of  a  violin  recalls  us  from  our 
April  thoughts  in  the  garden.  There  is 
music  in  the  gallery.  We  re-enter  the  house 
and  go  up  another  flight  of  tiled  steps  turning 
between  the  walls,  to  the  erstwhile  apartments 
of  the  Moorish  harem.  Here  is  the  recep- 
tion-room of  the  present  mistress  of  this  dwell- 
ing. Windows  on  one  side  of  it  open  to  the 
[99] 


ALGIERS 

gallery,  and  at  one  end  overlook  the  second 
court.  In  the  centre  a  dome  makes  a  bay- 
window,  and  a  circular  couch  takes  up  the 
middle.  Here  we  gather  and  in  the  inter- 
vals of  the  music  listen  to  the  echoes  of  the 
house. 

The  chateau  dates  back  to  Roman  days 
and  has  subterranean  passages.  The  story 
of  Mustapha  Dey  is  recalled.  Poor  Musta- 
pha!  We  let  him  pass  in  peace  from  this 
beautiful  palace  of  his.  Then  we  speak  of 
Dr.  Bowen  of  the  English  consulate,  who 
occupied  the  house  under  a  later  Dey  and 
whose  sturdy  sense  of  right  led  him  to  under- 
take dangerous  and  grewsome  duties.  Surely 
it  is  a  place  of  haunting  suggestions;  but  the 
American  family  fill  its  heart  with  the  sweet- 
est music  to  be  heard  in  Algiers,  and  the  con- 
stant prattle  of  lovely  children.  The  spell 
seems  broken  and  lifted  and  the  sunshine 
streams  into  the  house. 

As  we  drive  home  we  cannot  help  reflect- 
ing that  this  life  of  the  foreign  colony  in  the 
Moorish  villas  on  the  hills  outside  Algiers  is 
for  us  the  happiest  result  of  the  changes 
wrought  by  the  French.  Here  we  command 
what  little  of  the  real  Oriental  life  remains 
visible;  while  we  dwell  in  its  most  beautiful 
[100] 


THE    PASSING    OF    THE    DEYS 

shells,  and  much  that  might  have  offended 
Western  eyes  is  hidden  with  the  retreating 
Eastern  existence  in  deeper  fastnesses.  Our- 
selves, surrounded  by  every  accustomed  com- 
fort; it  is  the  poetry,  the  true  ideal  in  the  East, 
which  we  may  enjoy  to  the  full  in  all  the  white 
chastity  of  marble,  the  purity  of  sparkling 
fountains. 

Perhaps  the  palace  of  greatest  historical 
interest  to  us  is  enclosed  in  the  Kasba,  where 
was  concluded  the  story  of  the  Deys.  This 
almost  impregnable  fortress,  with  its  white 
walls  two  metres  thick,  is  situated  above  and 
behind  the  old  town,  and  serves  the  French, 
as  it  once  served  the  Turks,  to  overawe  the 
Moorish  population  surging  up  the  hill  to 
the  foot  of  its  walls.  The  soldiers  who  use 
it  as  barracks  are  dressed  in  the  famous 
Turkish  Zouave  costume.  The  name  "  Zou- 
ave," given  by  the  French  to  their  celebrated 
African  regiments,  is  a  corruption  of  "  Zou- 
aoua,"  one  of  the  most  warlike  tribes  of 
Kabylia,  so  warlike  that  at  first  they  alone 
were  enrolled  in  the  native  militia  of  Algiers, 
Tunis,  and  Tripoli.  Afterwards  the  ranks  were 
opened  to  all  Kabyles,  Arabs,  and  Turkish 
half-breeds.  The  Turks  themselves  had  been 
banished  from  Algeria.  It  is  said  that  the 
[101] 


ALGIERS 

half-breeds  took  the  French  bounty  and  de- 
camped to  the  enemy.  Their  ranks  were  re- 
cruited by  the  French  until  nothing  was  left  of 
the  Turks  but  their  costume.  Yet  to  see  these 
soldiers  turns  back  the  last  page  of  history. 

From  the  battlements  of  the  Kasba  one 
can  look  far  below  over  the  roofs  or  terraces, 
the  women's  private  outdoor  world.  Forti- 
fications ran  down  on  both  sides  from  the 
Kasba,  forming  with  the  sea  a  triangle  which 
enclosed  the  city.  Within  the  Kasba  itself 
are  the  palace  and  harem  buildings  of  the 
last  two  Deys,  a  minaret  and  numerous 
council  chambers  and  dungeons — all  irregu- 
larly and  picturesquely  planned. 

Many  a  head  has  ornamented  the  grim 
walls.  And  upon  the  great  door,  now  for- 
ever closed,  hangs  the  chain,  which,  grasped 
by  any  one,  gave  the  right  of  appeal.  Above 
is  the  little  iron-barred  window  from  which 
the  Dey  looked  down  on  executions. 

Ali  Khoja  was  the  last  Dey  but  one.  Until 
his  time  the  Kasba  had  been  used  solely  for 
government  purposes,  while  the  Deys  and 
their  families  had  always  lived  in  one  of  the 
palaces  in  the  town.  Ali  was  a  man  of  spirit, 
and  resolved  that  the  ruler  should  no  longer 
be  at  the  mercy  of  the  Janissaries.  One 
[102] 


/: 


THE    PASSING    OF    THE    DEYS 

dark  night,  with  hired  soldiers  and  some  three 
hundred  mules,  he  left  his  beautiful  palace  in 
the  city  and  moved  himself  and  his  treasure 
within  the  great  fort.  One  can  almost  see 
the  silent  train  winding  up  the  hill.  Not  till 
morning  did  the  Janissaries  realize  what  had 
happened  and  appear  before  the  Kasba.  The 
Dey  turned  their  own  guns  against  them  and 
the  mercenaries  held  the  fort.  The  Janis- 
saries' stronghold  was  taken,  their  power 
broken,  by  one  from  their  own  number. 

We  hear  still  of  the  fabulous  garden  Ali 
Khoja  had  made  in  the  court  of  the  harem, 
and  may  see  the  minaret  of  his  mosque, 
where  he  went  to  prayer  without  leaving  his 
fortress.  But  two  years  after  his  bloodless 
triumph  the  plague,  which  was  one  of  the 
appurtenances  of  fatalistic  Algerine  govern- 
ment, descended  upon  him. 

Hussein  Dey  followed  him  in  the  Kasba. 
In  the  topmost  gallery  of  the  large  inner 
court  hangs  a  small  reception  pavilion,  used 
by  Hussein  for  important  interviews.  Its 
remoteness  suggests  that  the  ruler  wished  to 
be  as  far  from  interruption  as  possible.  Here 
occurred  the  famous  cou^  (Teventail.  And 
on  the  terrace  in  front  of  his  private  apart- 
ments is  the  place  where  Hussein  watched 
[103] 


ALGIERS 

and  smiled  at  the  French  ships  in  the  har- 
bor which  had  come  to  avenge  it. 

For  just  as  these  Deys  were  estabhshing 
their  power  above  their  Janissaries,  France 
suddenly  found  that  the  Algerine  cup  of 
iniquity  was  full.  Like  the  last  drop  or  the 
camel's  straw,  it  was  a  small  thing,  in  com- 
parison with  what  had  gone  before,  which 
finally  brought  the  end :  a  quarrel  between  the 
Dey  and  the  French  consul  over  some  money 
owed  to  an  individual.  In  exasperation  Hus- 
sein Dey,  usually  self-possessed,  and  superior 
in  all  accounts  to  his  adversary,  struck  the 
French  consul  across  the  face  with  his  fan,  and 
at  that  one  fell  stroke  lost  all  his  fair  domin- 
ions. The  consul  rose  in  dignity  and  ex- 
claimed, "This  affront  is  not  to  me  only,  but 
to  the  King  of  France!"  And  Hussein,  in  his 
Oriental  pride  and  passion,  declared,  "I  care 
no  more  for  your  master  than  I  do  for  you!" 

The  French  fleet  appeared  in  the  harbor; 
three  years  later  the  French  army  landed  on 
the  west  side  of  the  peninsula  to  storm  Algiers 
from  above  and  behind.  The  Turks  met  the 
army  and  were  defeated.  Then  General  de 
Bourmont  received  two  messages:  one  from 
the  Janissaries  offering  to  dispose  of  the  Dey 
in  expiation  of  the  insult;  the  other  from  the 
[  104] 


THE    PASSING    OF    THE    DEYS 

Dey  himself,  asking  the  terms  of  surrender. 
The  Janissaries  were  quickly  disposed  of. 
The  city  was  surrendered.  The  Dey,  with 
his  suite,  was  given  safe  conduct  to  Italy. 
And  France  found  herself  unexpectedly  in 
possession,  not  only  of  Algiers,  but  of  a 
province — somewhat  indeterminate  in  size, 
it  is  true;  but  approximating  the  home  coun- 
try itself. 

The  end  of  Hussein  is  pathetic.  From 
Italy  he  went  to  Egypt,  where  he  was  received 
by  the  Khedive  Mohammed  Ali  with  Oriental 
ceremony,  and  the  sympathy  which  befitted 
a  Mohammedan  ruler  in  so  sore  a  plight. 
One  day,  however,  immediately  after  a  pri- 
vate interview,  Hussein  was  seized  with  con- 
vulsions and  died. 

So  ends  the  story  of  the  Deys  of  Algiers. 
But  once  a  year  a  vision  of  the  ancient  splen- 
dor returns  in  one  of  their  palaces.  For  a 
few  hours  the  dream  comes  true,  the  romance 
and  story  suggested  by  the  old  dwellings 
become  visible.  This  is  on  the  occasion  of 
the  grand  annual  ball  of  the  Governor-Gen- 
eral of  Algeria — which  realizes  our  imagin- 
ings of  the  court  of  Solomon.  This  year  it 
took  place  in  the  most  completely  exquisite 
of  ail  buildings  near  Algiers,  the  palace  of 
[105] 


ALGIERS 

the  Deys  at  Mustapha,  reserved  as  the  sum- 
mer palace  of  the  French  Governor.  With- 
out and  within  are  upper  and  lower  colon- 
nades of  arches;  the  inner  walls  are  lined 
with  lacy  openwork;  and  the  beams,  we 
fancy,  are  the  cedars  of  Lebanon.  On  the 
night  of  the  ball  the  court  was  thronged  with 
a  great  and  somewhat  incongruous  assembly, 
principally  French,  who  pushed  up  into  the 
galleries  and  rooms  above.  But  there  were 
other  guests  who  gave  the  character  to  this 
occasion.  The  invitation  is  a  summons  to 
the  Arab  chiefs  of  Algeria,  Aghas  and  Bach- 
Aghas.  They  are  the  influential  heads  of 
tribes,  to  whom  the  French  government  has 
given  an  ofiicial  position  to  bind  them  to 
itself,  and  through  them,  the  tribes,  for  whose 
allegiance  and  good  conduct  they  are  re- 
sponsible. These  men  came  up  to  the  city 
several  days  before  the  ball,  and  were  every- 
where about  the  streets,  in  their  magnificent 
robes,  their  flattering  French  decorations, 
pompous  and  fat  because  of  their  inactive 
lives.  Others  also,  like  the  grandson  of  the 
last  Dey,  were  present,  prisoner-guests.  A 
stately  procession  it  was  in  which  these  Arab 
chiefs  greeted  the  Governor.  Afterward, 
whether  disturbed  by  the  heat,  or  proud  dis- 
[106] 


THE    PASSING    OF    THE    DEYS 

dain  of  the  curiosity  they  excited,  many  of 
them  did  not  linger  in  the  house.  Outside, 
the  gardens  were  aglow  with  lights:  blue  as 
moonlit  water  along  the  borders;  rose-red 
like  brilliant  flowers  in  the  luxuriant  foliage; 
yellow  as  dates,  hanging  in  clusters  from  the 
tall  palms.  iVll  the  palace,  arches  and  domes, 
was  outlined  with  soft  lights.  Most  fairy- 
like of  all  was  the  large  outer  court  and 
fountain,  lighted  by  the  surrounding  arches, 
and  open  on  one  side  to  the  garden  and  the 
garden  fountain.  Here  the  Arabs  sat  about 
or  stood  in  groups  of  conscious  grandeur  and 
wonderful  color.  And  over  all,  the  moon 
shone. 

That  one  night  of  the  ball,  in  the  corners 
of  the  stairway  stood  native  men  in  costume 
with  raised  swords,  as  if  to  guard  the  vision. 
Yet  it  vanished  with  the  morning  like  a  scene 
from  fairy -land.  Just  that  one  ball  and 
nothing  more — except  a  few  tokens  left  be- 
hind which  prove  to  us  that  it  was  real:  the 
rich  old  family  jewels  and  heirlooms  which 
some  of  the  Aghas  were  obliged  to  sell  to  pay 
the  expenses  of  the  journey,  and  which  may 
be  found  in  a  shop  in  Mustapha. 

Even  the  palace  is  deserted.  The  Gov- 
ernor no  longer  lives  in  it  since  his  own  beloved 
[107] 


ALGIERS 

son  died  there;  a  recent  sorrow  whose  asso- 
ciation is  personal  and  fresher  than  haunting 
Turkish  tragedies.  The  palace  stands  lonely, 
left  to  the  stranger.  The  Governor  shuns  it, 
yet  the  country  about  it  is  no  longer  under  the 
spell  of  the  Orient.  The  walls  are  broken 
down,  and  in  the  openings  grow  the  aspho- 
dels. 

In  the  city,  only  Lazarus  remains. 


[108] 


LAZARUS 


LAZARUS 

IN  the  morning  we  would  see  Lazarus. 
The  walls  are  broken  down,  the  man 
at  the  gate  of  the  city  is  asleep,  and  we 
penetrate  to  the  inner  stronghold  of  the 
hidden  life. 

Sunshine  and  clouds  flit  over  the  road 
which  winds  down  to  the  city — a  magnificent 
road,  splendidly  built,  for  France  is  a  road- 
making  country,  and  roads  mean  history. 
Some  of  these  are  reminiscences  of  the  Ro- 
mans, traversing  on  Roman  foundations  the 
old  Roman  ways.  Such  is  the  old  road  to 
Mustapha,  now  a  discarded  short  cut,  shut 
in  by  high  walls.  On  the  new  way  rich 
foliage  hangs  over  the  path  beside  us,  and 
always  in  view  is  the  laughing  water  of  the 
beautiful  bay  we  are  nearing.  But  the  first 
object  we  meet  is  one  of  the  cross  -  shaped 
wine-carts.  No  railway  goes  over  the  Sahel  by 
the  shore;  and  this  fine  road  is  the  scene  of 
constant  struggles,  where  horses  of  the  frail 
Arab  build  draw  loads  too  great  by  far. 
[Ill] 


ALGIERS 

Day  and  night  since  we  took  up  our  abode 
in  the  villa  there  has  floated  to  us  from  the 
distance,  mingled  with  the  creak  of  the  brakes 
and  the  crack  of  the  whips,  the  harsh  cry  of 
the  drivers,  that  one  sound  which  we  hear  at 
the  very  first  above  all  others  and  which 
haunts  us  as  long  as  we  stay  more  persistently 
than  any  other  and  seems  to  express  a  melan- 
choly influence  in  Algiers. 

It  is  a  relief  to  see  the  little  burden-bearers 
of  the  city — the  donkeys.  A  flock  of  them  is 
the  most  characteristic  sight  of  Algiers  and 
of  the  surrounding  country,  and  one  not 
unworthy  to  serve  as  the  arms  of  the  city. 
Camels  now  rarely  come  into  the  streets.* 
But  these  little  beasts  are  everywhere.     They 

*  This  fact  caused  the  writer  some  chagrin.  How  was  it  pos- 
sible to  return  from  Africa  to  America  without  having  seen  a 
camel — except  the  baby  in  French  captivity  at  the  French 
Jardin  d'Essai?  Reports  of  a  dromedary  seen  at  the  Kasba 
reached  us  from  time  to  time,  but  always  arrived  too  late. 
Trips  into  the  country  failed  to  procure  the  coveted  sight. 
Lamentations  on  the  subject  became  so  well  known  that  friends 
who  journeyed  on  into  the  desert  sent  back  photographs  of  the 
elusive  animals.  Fortunately  the  ship  on  which  we  sailed  from 
Algiers  stopped  at  Tunis,  and  from  the  window  of  a  trolley  in 
the  latter  city  we  perceived  a  drove  of  camels  on  the  Boulevard. 
The  reputation  of  a  certain  traveler,  who  must  be  truthful  at 
all  costs,  was  saved. 

Shortly  after  our  return  we  chanced  to  walk  upon  the  main 
street  of  a  Pennsylvania  town.  Our  surprise  may  be  imagined, 
when  we  beheld  a  camel  moving  majestically  do\\'n  the  sloping 
avenue  toward  us.  His  air  was  that  of  superior  disdain  of  his 
surroundings,  and  he  bore  a  rider  in  full  Arab  dress.  We  stood 
transfixed  with  astonishment.  Afterward  we  learned  that  he 
belonged  to  a  neighboring  circus — but  America  had  triumphed. 

[  112  ] 


LAZARUS 

go  up  and  down  the  flights  of  stairs  in  the  old 
town,  wearing  baskets  like  inverted  sun- 
bonnets,  and  carrying  everything  from  build- 
ing stone  to  dust  and  drivers. 

One  cannot  blame  the  native  drivers,  either 
of  horses  or  of  donkeys,  for  their  impervious- 
ness  to  suffering.  Those  merry-hearted,  tune- 
ful French  soldiers,  who  represent  authority, 
sometimes  cruelly  wound  their  own  beautiful 
white  horses.  And  the  Mohammedans' 
standard  concerning  the  value  of  life  and  of 
physical  comfort  for  themselves  is  different 
from  ours.  The  native  workmen  of  Algiers 
do  not  lead  an  easy  existence  in  spite  of  na- 
tive indolence.  Sometimes  we  have  seen  the 
drivers  get  inside  the  rims  of  the  wheels ;  and 
often  Arabs  themselves  push  and  pull.  One 
hand-load  which  we  witnessed  going  up  a 
hill  consisted  of  two  pianos  and  a  bale  of 
hay.  And  we  have  watched  old  men  in  single 
harness  drawing  large  carts  of  meal  sacks  on 
a  slimy  road. 

As  we  pass  down  from  Mustapha  we  find 
Lazarus  at  the  Porte  d'lsly,  where  was  once 
an  old  gate  of  the  city.  Here  began  the  wall 
which  ran  from  the  sea  to  the  Kasba  at  the 
top  of  the  hill,  and  down  to  the  sea  on  the 
other  side.  The  gate  and  the  wall  are  gone, 
[113] 


ALGIERS 

and  the  old  fort  at  this  seaward  end  is  even 
now  being  demohshed.  Opposite  the  fort 
on  an  open  lot  sit  all  day  long  some  of  the 
poor  of  Algiers,  the  venders  of  oranges;  and 
from  each  man  the  government  in  the  person 
of  a  tax  official  extracts  a  tax  each  day. 

The  Porte  d'Isly  is  an  excellent  place  to 
see  the  relation  between  the  city  and  the 
country  outside,  between  the  present  and 
the  past.  The  main  roads  from  the  south 
run  into  it,  and  loads  of  every  description 
come  and  go.  There  is  building  taking  up 
the  planted  lots  around  the  square,  and  the 
groups  of  little  donkeys  are  always  hard  at 
work.  Here  and  there  a  man  from  the  country 
sits  down  beside  his  mule,  and  sleeps  as  un- 
disturbed as  if  he  were  out  in  the  open  desert, 
miles  from  any  French  habitation.  There  are 
sure  to  be  soldiers;  or  mules  with  panniers 
laden  and  patriarchal  drivers;  or  hand-loads; 
or  shavings-men.  It  is  particularly  a  resort 
of  the  shavings-man.  Who  or  what  he  is,  we 
have  never  quite  understood;  but  he  has 
grown  to  be  a  familiar  figure.  Usually  he  is 
old  and  always  he  carries  on  his  back  a  huge 
bundle  of  shavings  between  two  mats.  There 
is  a  bit  of  wall  that  divides  an  upper  road 
from  one  which  turns  down  below;  and  on 
[114] 


LAZARUS 

this  wall  the  shavings-men  have  their  open 
air  club,  where  they  drop  their  burdens  and 
chat  together,  or  sometimes  curl  up  and  go 
to  sleep.  Many  are  our  struggles  to  catch 
one  in  our  camera,  but  he  is  invariably  super- 
stitious and  invariably  melts  quickly  and 
mysteriously  away,  leaving  only  a  blur  on  the 
film. 

Just  as  the  noonday  sun  becomes  unbear- 
able for  us,  the  orange  peddlers  roll  their 
cloaks  about  them,  and  stretch  themselves 
upon  the  ground  to  sleep.  Here,  at  the 
height  of  day,  on  this  open  square  surrounded 
by  French  buildings,  these  figures  lie  uncon- 
scious of  all  outward  things,  asleep — asleep 
just  outside  the  very  spot  where  once  was  the 
gate  of  their  city.  It  is  true  that  thus  they 
may  still  dream,  children  of  moods,  of  laugh- 
ter and  of  tears,  of  fiery  faith  and  fatalism, 
unpractical,  all-feeling — and  we  realize  that 
although  the  portal  is  gone  we  are  none  the 
less  shut  out.  But  there  is  something  signifi- 
cant about  it,  this  sleep  by  the  fallen  gate. 
It  is  natural  to  these  people  and  in  this  cli- 
mate to  be  indolent,  and  should  not  of  itself 
cause  their  race  to  decay,  unless  they  are 
brought  into  contact  with  other  than  natural 
conditions. 

[115] 


ALGIERS 


Is  it  possible  that  there  is  in  these  Arabs, 
as  some  Westerners  think,  a  lethargy  of  the 
spirit,  the  result  of  discouragement,  and  a 
suppressed  life,  which  means  sure  sinking 
into  the  deeper  sleep? 


[116] 


WITHIN  THE  CITY  GATES 


WITHIN   THE   CITY   GATES 

WHILE  the  man  at  the  gate  is  asleep, 
we  have  entered  into  his  city,  not 
once,  but  many  times;  have  seen 
the  Jewish  merchants  "discussing  argosies" 
in  the  public  square;  have  passed  through 
the  French  portion  into  the  Arab  town;  have 
broken  bread  in  an  Arab  house. 

The  Arabs  always  travel  with  us  in  the 
tram  from  the  Porte  d'lsly  into  town.  They 
have  long  crowded  Europeans  out  of  the  old 
diligence  which  is  their  own  particular  sleep- 
ing-car, bringing  them  into  the  city  as  if  from 
a  battle-field  or  under  the  spell  of  unconscious- 
ness we  have  noted.  Along  the  street  we 
catch  glimpses  of  their  Arabian  Nights  in 
the  small  Arab  shops  and  markets  nestled 
within  the  outer  portions  of  the  large,  new 
French  buildings.  There  are  fruits  and  vege- 
tables and  all  sorts  of  household  provisions, 
and  the  market  baskets  in  rows  above  the 
doors.  Many  shops  are  filled  with  the  earth- 
[119] 


ALGIERS 

enware  water-jars  used  to  carry  water  at  the 
wells  in  the  country.  Openings  from  this 
thoroughfare  reveal  flights  of  stairs  leading 
up  on  the  hill  into  the  old  town  and  the 
country  beyond.  Beside  the  city  fountains 
stand  the  copper  water-jugs,  and  we  envy 
the  grace  with  which  the  tribe  of  water-carriers 
bear  them  away  on  their  shoulders  as  they 
hurry  to  supply  some  Arab  house.  Is  it  a 
wine  of  enchantment  they  carry.? 

In  the  old  city  another  set  of  boys  are  bear- 
ing trays  on  their  heads  to  the  public  ovens, 
with  the  bread  which  the  housewives  knead 
in  the  morning,  and  which  is  brought  back 
to  them  at  night.  Thus  are  the  two  neces- 
sities of  life  provided. 

Our  tram  turns  down  to  the  Place  Bresson, 
where  the  Municipal  Theatre  looks  across  a 
palm  garden  to  the  Boulevard  and  the  sea. 
Then  we  enter  the  narrow  way  called  "Bab- 
Azzoun" — the  French  spelling  of  the  Arabic 
syllables  meaning  "Gate  of  Grief,"  a  street 
so  named  by  the  natives  when  prisoners  went 
to  their  punishment  through  the  gate  at  the 
end  of  it.  Beneath  it  is  a  Roman  cemetery. 
But  no  traces  of  suffering  linger  now.  The 
Bab-x\zzoun  is  the  fashionable  shopping 
street,  where  the  best  French  stores  of  Algiers 
[120] 


WITHIN    THE    CITY    GATES 

supply  the  needs  of  Western  costume,  and 
where  Fille's,  the  Algerian  Huyler's,  is  found. 
Door  by  door  with  these  are  shops  of  other 
nationalities;  and,  most  fascinating,  those  of 
Turkish  dealers  who  have  the  much  prized 
Kabyle  jewelry  and  who  have  collected  from 
old  native  families  heirlooms  of  ancient  Alge- 
rian workmanship,  their  like  not  to  be  had  in 
other  lands,  and  from  these  same  old  fam- 
ilies, spoils  of  ancient  piracy  brought  from 
every  country  on  the  Mediterranean  Sea. 
Fine  cups  there  are  from  Damascus,  among 
the  rare  old  embroideries  in  the  Algerian 
stitch,  and  the  rich  jewels  in  the  distinctive 
Algerian  settings.  The  flowers  of  a  broad 
but  perishing  tree  are  gathered  here. 

We  leave  the  tram  where  steps  lead  up  to 
another  square  near  by,  the  Place  de  Chartre, 
partly  in  the  old  town,  above  and  behind  a 
portion  of  the  French  city.  Here  the  large 
provision  market  is  held  every  morning;  and 
we  see  what  we  wished  to  know,  how  the 
physical  needs  of  the  life  of  Algiers  are  sup- 
plied. The  vendors  are  chiefly  Arabs,  but 
the  meat  and  the  unsalted  butter  come  from 
France.  There  are  always  eggs  and  chickens; 
and  the  Arab  chickens  are  very  lean,  but  the 
French  chickens  are  fat.  There  are  fresh 
[121] 


ALGIERS 

olives'^and  fresh  olive  oil  and  the  dates  and 
oranges  of  the  country. 

Beyond  us,  on  the  same  level,  is  the  Cathe- 
dral square,  above  the  Place  du  Gouverne- 
ment.  But  we  retrace  our  steps  to  the  Bab- 
Azzoun,  which  brings  us  into  the  Place  and 
continues  beyond  it  as  the  Bab-el-Oued,  a 
street  which  led  to  another  "Gate."  Not 
many  outsiders  go  that  way,  although  it 
leads  to  an  old  garden  of  the  Deys,  to  the 
large  Lyceum,  and  to  Notre  Dame.  We 
walk  toward  the  water  instead,  crossing  the 
Place  du  Gouvernement  to  the  end  of  the 
Boulevard,  the  place  to  watch  the  produce 
of  Algeria  depart.  Below  us  wine  casks, 
cork  and  dates  are  waiting  for  the  ships. 
Beneath  our  feet  are  the  hidden  warehouses 
behind  the  arches  of  the  ramparts. 

Around  us  on  the  Place  are  French  cafes, 
some  frequented  by  the  Moors.  They  give 
us  a  hint  of  the  Algerian  Oriental's  mode  of 
existence.  His  is  essentially  a  cafe  life. 
Where  he  is  poor,  his  small  cafe  in  the  old 
town  is  his  club,  in  many  instances  his  only 
home. 

So  we  watch  the  changing  life  about  us,  as 
we  wander  beneath  palms  in  the  far  corner 
of  the  square,  where  is  the  flower  market  of 
[122] 


WITHIN    THE    CITY    GATES 

Algiers.  It  also  is  kept  by  Arabs,  but  with 
French  bouquets.  Under  the  arcades  at  one 
side  is  a  French  shop  with  tin  funeral  wreathes, 
suggesting  the  tie  which  the  French  already 
have  in  the  new  country. 

We  recall  the  day  when  we  went  to  an 
Arab  lunch  in  an  Arab  house  and  how  it  was 
at  the  invitation  of  a  French  woman,  one 
who  had  lived  among  these  people  all  her 
life  and  who  had  learned  to  speak  Arabic 
before  she  spoke  French.  For  this  experi- 
ence in  her  enchanted  home  we  skirted  the 
edge  of  the  old  town;  climbed  through  the 
ancient  garden  of  the  Deys  upon  the  hill; 
and  came  at  last  to  the  gate  of  iron  which  was 
to  open  for  us,  between  two  buildings  in  an 
otherwise  solid  block.  We  were  not  sure  it 
led  into  the  passage  which  we  were  seeking, 
but  as  we  hesitated,  a  fairy  Moorish  maiden 
came  flying  down  the  street,  her  haik  floating 
wide,  in  her  hands  strings  of  orange  buds, 
such  as  all  Arabs  bring  from  the  market  to 
their  wives  each  evening,  to  be  fastened  in 
and  to  droop  from  the  hair.  This  small 
woman  served  our  hostess,  and  the  flowers 
were  for  our  own  adorning.  Fathma  assured 
us  we  had  found  the  entrance,  and  flitted  up 
the  stairs  before  us,  stairs  which  seemed  in- 
[123] 


ALGIERS 

terminable,  passing  between  close  walls  and 
under  occasional  arches  that  hid  the  flights 
beyond.  Doors  on  the  landings  opened  into 
habitations;  and  at  last  we  came  out  on  a 
small  open  court.  Here  in  the  wall  is  again 
the  fountain,  with  another  flight  of  stairs  at 
one  side.  This  court  leads  into  the  lower  floor 
of  the  house.  Ascending  still  we  reached  the 
heavy  outer  door,  through  which  we  entered 
the  reception  vestibule.  Another  heavy  door 
at  right  angles  opens  to  a  long  passage,  at 
the  end  of  which  we  came  at  last  to  the  inner 
court  where  our  hostess  met  us.  This  inner 
place  is  very  fine  in  workmanship,  although, 
as  it  is  here  the  upper  floor,  there  is  no  gal- 
lery. On  one  side  double  doors  give  onto  a 
balcony,  closely  latticed  and  looking  over  the 
roofs  below,  to  the  sea.  Beautifully  carved 
double  doors,  with  smaller  doors  cut  in  them, 
in  the  shape  of  the  Moorish  arch,  open  into 
the  three  apartments  on  the  other  sides.  In 
the  end  of  one  of  these,  under  a  dome,  our 
luncheon  was  to  be  spread.  Here  were  no 
pictures  to  offend  the  eye.  All  the  furniture 
is  in  keeping;  and  we  sat  on  cushions  on  the 
floor  about  a  low  round  table.  A  brass  tray 
which  exactly  covered  the  table  was  brought 
in  with  the  first  course:  mince  pie  without 
[124] 


WITHIN    THE    CITY    GATES 

the  sweetening,  and  soft  with  olive  oil.  The 
Moors  cook  everything  in  oil,  which  is  quite 
tasteless  if  it  is  pure.  As  they  do  not  use 
knives  and  forks,  it  is  necessary  that  the 
meat  should  be  soft  enough  to  break  in  the 
fingers;  but  since  this  was  our  first  Arab  meal, 
our  hostess  thought  best  to  provide  us  with 
the  Western  implements. 

While  we  sat  at  meat,  partaking  of  the 
Oriental  food,  brought  to  us  by  the  soft- 
stepping,  barefoot  Oriental  maiden,  in  her 
red  ^velvet  gown, — she  who  cast  a  spell  upon 
us  with  her  solemn  dark  eyes, — our  hostess 
initiated  us  into  many  of  the  mysteries  con- 
nected with  the  preparation  of  Algerine  meals 
and  with  Algerine  customs  and  life. 

Our  second  course  was  couscous,  the  staple 
native  dish  of  high  and  low  everywhere  in 
North  Africa.  It  is  made  of  hard  wheat,  of 
the  sort  which  is  also  employed  for  macaroni, 
but  cannot  be  used  for  flour. 

The  preparation  of  couscous  is  a  somewhat 
elaborate  one,  and  is  woman's  chief  accom- 
plishment. The  whole  grains  are  pounded 
in  a  mortar;  then  rolled  in  flour  by  a  peculiar 
motion  of  the  hand,  keeping  the  grains  all 
separated.  These  are  constantly  picked  out 
as  they  grow  large  enough,  and  are  then 
[125] 


ALGIERS 

dried  in  the  sun,  after  which  they  will  keep 
for  several  years.  To  cook  the  couscous  the 
Arabs  put  it  over  a  pottery  steamer,  under 
which  they  have  fowl  or  meat,  cut  into  small 
pieces.  The  couscous  is  cooked  entirely  by 
the  steam  from  the  meat;  and  one  may 
imagine  that  when  the  grains  are  ready  the 
meat  is  also.  The  white  meal  is  spread  in 
a  large,  flat  dish,  and  the  bits  of  meat,  with 
beans  and  lentils,  arranged  in  fancy  patterns 
on  top.  In  another  dish  the  meat  juice  is 
served  as  a  sauce;  and  sometimes  a  hot 
sauce  of  tomato  and  peppers  is  added.  We 
each  seasoned  our  own  little  places  in  the 
big  dish,  and  when  we  had  eaten  out  a  small 
quantity  with  wooden  spoons,  poured  the 
bouillon  on,  like  water  into  holes  in  the  sand. 

The  Arab  bread,  which  was  served  with 
the  lunch  in  wedge-shaped  pieces,  is  very  fine 
and  snowy  and  perfumed  with  orange.  Be- 
cause there  are  no  real  kitchens  and  no  ovens 
in  private  houses,  the  housewives  of  El- 
Djezair  merely  knead  their  bread,  and  give 
it  to  the  bakers'  boys  who  take  it  to  the  pubhc 
ovens. 

After  the  couscous,  came  serpent  cake, 
soft,  rich  pastry,  with  minced  meat  and  nuts 
and  spices,  rolled  into  a  bun.  Fruit  and 
[126] 


WITHIN    THE    CITY    GATES 

dates  followed,  and  Arab  coffee,  ground  to 
powder  and  made  thick  as  a  syrup. 

The  repast  over,  the  pretty  Moorish  girl 
who  served  us  brought  a  pitcher  with  a  long, 
graceful  nose,  and  poured  rosewater  over  our 
hands  into  a  basin  with  a  perforated  cover. 

After  the  luncheon  our  hostess  took  us  to 
the  roof  of  the  house,  from  which  we  looked 
over  other  roofs  or  terraces,  the  women's 
world  of  out-of-doors,  where  no  man  is  ad- 
mitted, even  though  it  be  on  his  own  dwell- 
ing. For  the  white  street  coverings  are  laid 
aside,  and  the  pretty  costumes,  the  sweet 
faces,  under  the  drooping  silk  kerchiefs,  are 
revealed.  The  women  visit  freely  from  roof 
to  roof,  and  one  may  guess  the  gossip  pro- 
claimed from  the  house  tops.  Beyond,  from 
every  terrace,  may  be  seen  the  mysterious 
blue  sea,  the  secret  of  the  power  and  the  fall 
of  the  old  El-Djezair. 

We  took  leave  of  our  hostess,  grateful  for 
a  glimpse  of  the  women's  life,  which  is  hidden 
from  men,  even  from  those  who  have  visited 
among  the  Arabs.* 

And  having  broken  bread  in  an  Arab  house 
we  went  back  into  that  Place  du  Gouverne- 
ment  which  we  had  looked  upon  from  above. 

*  This  is  frequently  mentioned  by  De  Amicis  in  his  "  Morocco." 

[127] 


THE  FACE  OF  THE  WATERS 


THE  FACE  OF  THE  WATERS 

IN  this  open  square  to  which  we  have  so 
often  penetrated,  in  the  heart  of  the 
city,  where  once  stood  the  palace  of  the 
Deys,  we  gaze  upon  the  face  of  the  waters, 
the  surface  of  the  Oriental  life  of  Algiers,  the 
throng  that  first  greeted  us  when  we  ap- 
proached by  sea.  They  are  a  motley  throng 
to  decipher,  but  we  hold  the  key. 

It  is  the  dress  of  the  pure-blooded  Arab, 
which,  even  where  modified  and  changed, 
gives  the  character  to  all.  About  the  head 
and  shoulders  falls  a  fine,  white  woolen  gauze, 
softening  like  a  cloud  the  delicate  features 
and  transparent  olive  skin  of  the  face,  often 
a  face  revealing  the  beauty  and  ideality  which 
belong  to  the  Semitic  race  in  the  East.  This 
head-covering  or  haik  is  bound  to  a  felt  cap 
with  yards  of  camel's  hair  cord,  and  is  so  long 
that  it  would  trail  upon  the  ground  if  not 
gathered  up  and  secured  at  the  waist  by  a 
sash.  Sometimes  Turkish  trousers  and  jacket, 
or  a  plain  straight  white  garment  are  worn; 
[131] 


ALGIERS 

but  outside  of  all,  holding  in  the  haik  about 
the  neck,  is  the  burnous,  a  great  circular 
cloak,  the  seamless  garment,  having  a  hood 
which  is  drawn  over  the  head  in  bad  weather. 
According  to  the  day  are  one,  two,  or  even 
three  burnouses  worn;  and  according  to  the 
wealth  of  the  wearer  is  the  texture  more  or 
less  fine.  Occasionally,  also,  the  outer  cloak 
is  of  glorious  blue  or  red,  the  colors  which 
glowed  so  richly  at  the  Governor's  ball,  or  it 
may  be  of  undyed  black  sheep's  wool.  The 
costume  allows,  perhaps  demands,  the  utmost 
freedom  of  movement  and  the  result  is  remark- 
able grace.* 

The  native  cavalry  or  spahis,  and  the 
oflScials  in  the  employ  of  the  French,  dress 
like  the  Governor's  aide-de-camp.  The  haik 
and  the  camel's  rope  remain;  and  in  winter 
a  gorgeous  scarlet  burnous  falls  from  the 
shoulders  under  the  chair-back  of  the  saddle, 
and  over  each  white  horse.  But  beneath  is 
the  costume  left  behind  by  the  Turks  and 
similar  to  the  Zouaves:  baggy  embroidered 
trousers,  embroidered  coats  and  long  leather 
cavalry  boots. 

*The  costume  contrasts  strongly  with  that  of  Egypt,  all  the 
more  because  there  only  the  lower  class  among  the  men  wear 
native  dress  and  therefore  no  really  fine  Oriental  costumes  are 
seen. 

[132] 


THE    FACE    OF    THE    WATERS 

Some  of  the  Moors  of  the  town  have  ex- 
changed the  white  haik  for  the  red  Turkish 
fez,  which  is  also  worn  by  the  Zouaves. 
Sometimes  one  sees  a  mixture  of  Turkish  and 
Hebrew  costume.  The  Hebrew  color  is 
blue,  in  stockings  and  in  the  turban  around 
the  fez.  The  Moors,  who  have  performed 
the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  wrap  green  turbans 
around  their  fezes. 

All  the  Moors  and  their  women,  except 
among  the  poorest,  wear  neat,  low  shoes, 
with  white  stockings.  Those  who  live  out- 
side the  town  carry  their  shoes  and  stockings 
in  their  hands  on  the  country  roads,  and, 
coming  into  the  city,  bathe  their  feet  at  one 
of  the  fountains  and  there  don  their  hose  and 
slippers. 

The  womanhood  of  El-Djezair  is  clothed 
in  spotless  white.  No  woman  may  walk  out 
alone,  therefore  she  goes  in  the  company  of 
several  others  to  shop  or  pray.  We  watch 
them  pass  the  Arab  fountain  on  the  jetty,  on 
their  way  to  their  own  praying  place.  Some 
may  be  degraded;  none  appear  degenerate, 
none   are  venders   or  toilers   in  the  streets.* 

As  the  white  walls  hide  the  romance  of 
courts  and  fountains,  the  white  haik,  which 

*  The  opposite  is  true  of  the  mass  of  Egyptian  women, 

[133] 


ALGIERS 

the  woman  wears  as  a  shawl  and  which  falls 
over  her  from  the  forehead  to  the  knees,  con- 
ceals the  beauty  of  lace  tunics,  velvet  bodices 
and  rich  old  family  jewels.  The  size  of  the 
white  bloomer  overalls  may  be  inferred  from 
the  fact  that  the  silk  trousers  beneath  them 
are  sometimes  nine  yards  in  width.  Accord- 
ing to  the  age  of  the  wearer  does  the  width 
of  the  garment  diminish.  This  fashion  of 
dressing  gives  a  peculiar  bird-like  gait,  men- 
tioned in  very  old  Arabian  stories.* 

The  face  of  the  Algerine  woman,  below  the 
eyes,  is  covered  by  a  white  veil  called  the 
adjar,  held  down  by  the  hand  which  always 
clasps  the  haik  together.  The  white  brows 
and  dark  eyes  above  the  adjar  reveal,  per- 
haps more  than  anything  else,  the  superior- 
ity of  this  race  among  Orientals. 

The  Kabyle  woman  is  less  frequently  seen 
in  Algiers'  streets. 

The  man  is  sturdier  and  stockier  than  the 


*  At  first  the  costume  seemed  ungainly  to  us,  but  it  com- 
pared more  than  favorably  with  the  scant  attire  at  Tunis; 
which,  though  it  also  has  the  merit  of  being  white,  flaps  about 
the  legs,  while  the  feet  are  enclosed  in  loose  slippers,  so  short 
as  to  bring  the  heel  under  the  instep;  and  the  face  is  completely 
covered  with  two  pieces  of  black  cloth,  one  above  and  the  other 
just  below  the  eyes. 

The  snowy  costume  of  the  Algerine  woman  also  seems  much 
neater  than  the  flounced  European  skirts  or  the  long  black  cloaks 
of  Egypt. 


[134] 


THE    FACE    OF    THE    WATERS 

Arab.  His  dress  is  a  striped  garment,  of  a 
carpet-like  texture,  one  of  which  is  supposed 
to  last  a  life-time. 

But  what  a  home  he  comes  from!  Of  all 
Algeria  for  scenery  Kabylia  is  the  finest  part, 
and  Kabylia  of  the  Djurdjura  the  best.  It  is 
that  snow-capped  range  of  mountains  over 
there  across  the  bay.  Its  picturesque  villages, 
hidden  by  the  distance,  crown  the  tops  of  sharp 
spurs,  white  minarets  above  clusters  of  red- 
tiled  cottages.  There  are  villages  of  the  great 
warlike  tribe  of  the  Zouaoua  and  of  the  tribe 
of  Ait-Zenni  who  produce  the  jewelry.  From 
Kabylia  of  the  Djurdjura  comes  also  the 
crudely  classic  pottery.  The  highest  of  the 
Djurdjura  mountains  is  Tamgout  Lalla  Kha- 
didja — the  peak  of  the  Lady  Khadidja — 
more  than  seven  thousand  feet  above  the 
sea  and  quite  inaccessible  from  November 
to  May.  It  is  almost  opposite  a  small  French 
fort,  which  guards  the  head  of  the  river  es- 
Sahel.  Near  the  summit  is  the  shrine  of  the 
Lady  Khadidja,  a  pilgrimage  to  which  is  con- 
sidered by  the  Kabyles  as  scarcely  less  meri- 
torious than  one  to  Mecca.  Kabyle  woman- 
hood has  always  had  a  better  position  than 
Arab  or  Moorish  womanhood,  the  Kabyles 
having  but  one  wife.  Their  highest  shrine 
[135] 


ALGIERS 

among  the  snows,  where  they  kept  safe  their 
ideal  of  freedom,  is  to  a  woman;  and  it  was 
the  capture  of  a  woman  saint,  Lalla  Fatimah, 
in  the  Djurdjura,  which  hastened  the  submis- 
sion of  Kabylia  in  1857. 

At  the  foot  of  the  peak  of  the  Lalla  Kha- 
didja  runs  the  great  bed  of  the  Oued-es-Sahel. 
Only  a  few  thin  streams  can  be  seen  in  it ;  the 
rest  is  taken  up  by  groves  of  ancient  olive 
trees.  Not  only  are  Kabyle  laws,  customs 
and  art  said  to  have  come  from  the  Romans, 
but  even  these  far-away  olive  trees  are  said 
to  have  been  grafted  in  Roman  times.  The 
art  was  probably  lost  among  the  Kabyles, 
and  was  only  re-introduced  by  the  French. 

We  withdraw  our  eyes  from  the  mountains 
and  return  to  our  types  in  the  square  of 
Algiers. 

The  water-carrier  in  his  blue  shirt,  with  his 
picturesque  copper  jug,  belongs  to  the  tribe 
of  Biskris,  from  about  Biskra,  the  most  im- 
portant desert  city  of  Algeria,  sought  now  by 
foreigners  for  climate.  It  is  the  man  of  the 
desert  who  bears  water  to  the  houses  of  Algiers. 

That  darker  man,  whose  garment  is  a  long 
coat  of  many  colors,  is  a  Mozabite.  One 
author  says  the  word  is  derived  from  Moab. 
[136] 


THE    FACE    OF    THE    WATERS 

The  Mozabites  are  not  the  shepherds,  but 
the  killers  of  sheep,  the  butchers  of  Algiers; 
and  they  come  from  oases  in  the  desert,  which 
are  the  latest  annexation  of  the  French. 
Their  women  never  come  with  them;  and 
their  chief  ambition  is  to  make  sufficient 
money  to  return  to  their  own  little  country, 
those  secluded,  sand-bound  islands,  where 
few  Christians  have  set  foot.  The  largest  of 
their  seven  confederated  states  is  said  to  be 
eleven  miles  by  two.  Nevertheless,  in  these 
small  ravines  in  the  far  desert  the  Mozabites 
have  built  real  cities.  They  have  their  capi- 
tal, Ghardaia;  their  royal  or  sacred  city;  and 
their  commercial  depot.  All  the  fertile  ground 
has  been  laid  under  high  cultivation.  This 
seems  a  remarkable  fact,  but  came  about  as 
a  result  of  necessity  in  supporting  their  num- 
bers from  so  small  a  space.  The  farming 
is  carried  on  largely  by  the  women  and 
children. 

In  the  Place  du  Gouvernement  and  every- 
where amongst  the  people  move  the  French 
soldiers,  the  visible  presence  of  power,  wear- 
ing the  well-known  Turkish  "Zouave"  cos- 
tume, so-called  in  the  first  place  from  the  tribe 
of  Kabyles,  the  mountain-folk  of  Algeria. 
[137] 


ALGIERS 

They  swing  along  the  roads,  singing  their 
rollicking  strains,  and  are  very  brilliant  and 
jaunty  in  the  full  red  trousers,  white  blouses 
and  blue  jackets,  with  the  red  fezes  hanging 
— one  does  not  know  how — on  the  backs  of 
their  heads.  The  cavalry  are  mounted  on 
white  horses;  for  the  pure  Arab  steed,  though 
no  longer  existing  here,  has  given  the  Alge- 
rian horses  their  color.  It  is  snowy  under 
the  long,  red  cloaks  which  the  native  cavalry- 
men wear  in  winter. 

There  is  also,  now,  in  this  Place  du  Gou- 
vernement  every  variety  of  costume,  every 
type  and  mixture  of  types;  stately  white- 
robed  patriarchs  with  umbrellas!  But  even 
the  poorest  workman,  with  a  brown  mealsack 
serving  him  for  a  hooded  burnous,  surprises 
us  with  the  suggestions  of  grace  and  ideality 
he  gives  the  homely  thing.  In  whatever 
guise,  the  native  has  the  same  freedom  of 
motion,  and  makes  even  carrying  hods  as 
graceful  and  rhythmic  as  a  strain  of  music. 

Our  camera  is  always  with  us  for  illustra- 
tion; but  our  intentions  are  not  unkind,  and 
it  requires  much  care  not  to  cause  distress  to 
the  poor  native  of  Algiers  and  thus  stand  in 
the  way  of  our  own  investigations.  Not  that 
his  poverty  gives  him  any  shame — though  a 
[138] 


THE    FACE    OF    THE    WATERS 

sharp  bargainer,  he  is  at  all  times  superior  to 
material  discomforts  or  pride;  and,  moreover, 
lays  all  blame  upon  the  broad  shoulders  of 
the  French  government — but  he  fears  the 
camera  as  the  evil  eye.  Its  blackly  magical 
power  has  even  been  proved  to  him.  Has  he 
not  viewed,  exposed  for  sale  in  windows  and 
hung  above  the  paper  stands,  the  images  of 
his  friends  who  have  faced  the  instrument, 
not  for  gold  but  for  a  few  paltry  coppers  ? 
Perhaps  he  finds  himself.  And  since  he  be- 
lieves no  image  can  be  made  with  the  consent 
of  the  object  unless  something  of  the  soul 
goes  to  form  it,  he  knows  that  he  is  scat- 
tered on  post  cards  to  the  four  winds  of  the 
earth.  This  experience,  instead  of  harden- 
ing, serves  in  most  cases  to  make  him  more 
wary. 

It  must  not  be  imagined  that  the  desire  to 
increase  by  reluctance  the  value  of  posing 
leads  these  men  to  shun  the  eye  of  the  lens; 
only  in  respect  to  certain  half-breed,  devil- 
may-care  boys  can  this  be  true.  They  dance 
before  us,  urging,  "Photographic!  Photogra- 
phic!" But  the  only  genuine  pure-blooded 
Arab  who  ever  stood  for  us  refused  to  be 
paid.  Occasionally,  as  in  a  group  which  we 
took  outside  of  a  cafe,  the  men  who  have  lost 
[139] 


ALGIERS 

their  "prejudices"  will  smile  assent  to  us, 
but  there  is  sure  to  be  an  objector  in  the 
group  who  scowls  darkly  and  wishes  to  be 
assured  that  he  is  not  within  the  range.  The 
sincere  Mohammedan  slips  away  in  evident 
deep  discomfort  from  this  weapon  of  the  soul ; 
and  pennies  will  not  bribe  the  children  or  the 
women.  Women  may  have  no  souls  to  be 
destroyed,  but  the  men  object  for  them.  One 
day  within  the  old  town,  two  unveiled  women 
posed  for  us  in  a  doorway.  A  man  came  by 
and  stopped  to  talk  with  them.  He  himself 
was  taken — with  full  cognizance,  as  we 
thought,  believing  him  to  be  one  of  the  "un- 
prejudiced." Accordingly,  when  he  asked 
pleasantly  in  French  if  the  photograph  were 
done,  we  answered  guilelessly,  "Yes."  What 
he  said  to  the  women  we  never  knew.  We 
had  stepped  into  the  vestibule  of  a  French 
house  to  change  the  roll  of  film.  Suddenly 
we  were  besieged  by  a  crowd  of  amazons,  in 
soft  clothes  and  carrying  cigarettes;  the  eyes 
of  some  ablaze  with  fury,  others  adding  fuel 
to  the  flames  by  their  amusement.  Our  com- 
pulsory hostess  enjoyed  the  scene  with  avid- 
ity. We  smiled  and  smiled,  like  Shakespeare's 
famous  villain;  and  either  because  of  our 
desire  to  be  propitiatory,  or  because  we  were 
[  140] 


THE    FACE    OF    THE    WATERS 

in  a  French  house,  we  came  out  with  a  whole 
camera. 

This  photographing  is  to  true  Mohamme- 
dans but  another  form  of  insult  from  that  west- 
ern civilization  which  destroys  not  the  body 
only;  and  to  the  small  boys  but  another 
excuse  for  the  mischief  which  possesses  them. 
These  particular  youngsters  are  so  merry,  so 
winsome  in  spite  of  dirt,  more  anxious  for 
a  smile  to  which  they  can  respond  than  they 
are  for  coppers;  but  it  is  their  merriment 
which  is  uppermost,  and  as  we  pass  through 
the  Arab  town  they  always  spy  the  camera 
and  fly  delightedly  ahead,  warning  the  women 
away  with  that  cry  of  "Photographic!"  or 
exultantly  telling  them  their  pictures  have 
been  taken.  Among  the  men  the  humor 
which  is  so  characteristic  of  these  people  is 
revealed,  when  they  watch  and  even  assist  us 
to  photograph  others  who  are  not  conscious 
of  what  is  going  on,  while  they  themselves 
keep  carefully  behind  us.  Sometimes  the 
interested,  idle  crowd  becomes  overpowering 
and  we  give  up  lying  in  wait,  and  flee. 

We  do  not  intend  to  hurt  feelings  with  our 

camera.     After  all,  who  among  ourselves  has 

not  some  pet  superstition  which  has  power  to 

cause  him   anguish;    who   among  us   would 

[141] 


ALGIERS 

like  to  be  photographed  at  church  or  at 
prayer?  Yet  that  is  exactly  what  a  European 
woman  attempted  in  a  mosque  in  the  heart 
of  the  Arab  town  this  winter — to  her  own 
extreme  discomfiture,  for  one  ragged  beggar 
threw  his  arms  about  her  neck.  In  their  own 
eyes,  and  as  a  psychological  consequence  in 
reality,  they  must  become  degraded  by  hav- 
ing no  recourse  to  revenge.  They  are  help- 
less in  this  as  in  other  matters  pertaining  to 
their  religion.  They  are  forced  to  admit 
Christians  to  their  mosques,  where  once  such 
pollution  could  only  have  been  wiped  out  in 
blood.  It  is  a  question  as  to  what  is  the 
effect  upon  them,  of  their  taking  the  fees 
given  them  for  the  privilege  of  entering  their 
most  holy  places.  There  are  times,  however, 
when,  even  were  we  disposed,  we  should  not 
dare  to  do  violence  to  their  beliefs.  We  two 
women  have  gone  through  the  entrance  pas- 
sage and  have  stood  alone  in  the  court  of  the 
temple  while  these  tall  men  came  from 
prayer.  Some  of  them  caught  sight  of  the 
machine,  folded  away  under  an  arm,  and 
angrily  brushed  against  us  as  they  passed; 
most  of  them  were  uplifted  far  above  seeing 
us ;  and  the  camera  was  kept  reverently  closed. 

[  142  ] 


HIDDEN  WAYS 


HIDDEN   WAYS 

WE  stand  in  the  Place  du  Gouverne- 
ment  beside  Mohammed,  looking 
down  upon  the  jetty,  the  jetty  of 
Khair-ed-din,  at  the  Spanish  fort,  and  the 
mole  itself,  built  by  the  Christian  slaves. 

Along  it,  where  the  low,  white  barracks 
now  extend,  were  the  former  Christian  prisons; 
while  under  the  fine  old  arches  of  the  present 
Admiralty,  which  was  the  house  of  the  Cap- 
tain Pacha,  and  is  now  one  of  the  most  perfect 
Moorish  houses  remaining  in  Algiers,  is  prob- 
ably the  place  where  the  slaves  were  landed. 
We  have  gone  down  to  this  spot  sometimes, 
close  to  the  mysterious  power  of  the  sea, 
where  the  Past  entirely  enfolds  us. 

Beyond  the  arches,  in  the  wall  of  the  house, 
is  the  fountain,  one  of  the  finest  spared  by 
the  French.  White  groups  of  women  pass  on 
their  way  to  their  small  praying  place  in  a 
filled-in  arch,  where  the  keeper  sits  below 
the  level  of  the  threshold,  his  turbaned  head 
[  145] 


ALGIERS 

just  visible,  and  two  palms  keep  guard  beside 
the  door. 

There  is  a  picturesque  old  Turkish  prison 
at  one  end  of  the  island;  and  hidden  away, 
around  a  corner  in  it,  a  rich  old  door.  In  the 
arch  above  the  door  are  the  only  images  of 
living  things  to  be  found  in  Oriental  Algiers. 
They  are  two  mosaic  lions,  made  by  a  cap- 
tive Persian,  a  Fatimite  Mohammedan,  whose 
creed  permitted  it.  The  beauty  of  the  crea- 
tion proved  its  right  to  exist.  In  spite  of  all 
changes  and  destructive  forces,  it  is  undis- 
turbed to  this  day. 

The  crowning  charm  of  jetty  and  island 
and  harbor  is  always  the  white  lighthouse 
of  Hassan,  springing  lightly  from  the  Span- 
ish fort,  with  the  Spanish  arms  above  the 
door.  Each  night  it  glows  over  the  water, 
in  which  lay  the  strength  of  the  Algerines; 
warns  the  ships  of  danger,  guides  them  home 
to  port — still  shines  out  as  the  spirit  of  the 
ancient  El-Djezair. 

In  the  morning  it  is  finest  to  walk  out  on 
the  smooth  masonry  which  forms  the  French 
continuation  of  the  jetty,  enclosing  the  larger 
harbor;  and  there,  with  the  fresh  wind 
blowing  and  the  sound  of  the  breakers  in  our 
ears,  to  look  back  at  the  terraced  white  city, 
[146] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

the  sunlight  falling  full  upon  it.  Here  and 
there,  at  our  feet  on  the  rough  masonry,  are 
boys  engaged  in  that  most  fascinating  sport 
for  all  ages  and  all  grades  of  civilization — 
fishing;  and  down  among  the  irregular  blocks 
which  break  the  force  of  the  sea  are  Arabs 
lying  in  the  sun  and  wind,  out  of  sight  of  our 
modern  life,  again  asleep  and  dreaming. 

Ascending  from  the  mole  to  the  point  of 
the  city  from  which  it  extends,  we  seldom 
return  by  the  branch  of  the  new-made  boule- 
vard overlooking  the  shore,  but  walk  up  the 
street  which  leads  directly  from  the  jetty. 
It  was  a  Roman  street,  this  Rue  de  la  Marine, 
but  its  attraction  now  is  the  Moorish  mosque, 
the  oldest  in  Algiers,  restored  by  the  French 
after  the  bombardments  which  partly  wrecked 
*t.  The  mosque's  long  outer  colonnade  is 
►surmounted  by  serrated  horseshoe  arches, 
and  contains  a  black  marble  fountain  sur- 
rounded by  columns,  grouped  as  in  the  Al- 
hambra.  Within  its  courts  one  realizes  that 
the  old  life  does  indeed  go  on,  the  life  whose 
essence  is  faith.  Though  it  flows  in  hidden 
ways,  in  streams  and  undercurrents,  less  and 
less  evident  beneath  the  French  structure 
growing  above  it,  yet  it  is  there.  The  portal 
of  the  temple  is  the  only  entrance  to  it; 
[147] 


ALGIERS 

within,  the  only  place  where  one  may  catch 
a  glimpse  of  the  Moor's  real  existence.  Just 
inside  the  gates  of  the  temple  sit  the  Eastern 
beggars:  women  and  children.  In  the  outer 
court  is  the  law  office  of  the  Cadi;  for  the  law 
is  interpreted  solely  from  the  Koran,  and 
minor  differences  between  Mohammedans  are 
settled  by  the  Cadi,  to  whom  they  go  for 
knowledge  of  the  law.  In  the  mosque  proper 
are  arches  and  pillars  unadorned — pillars 
behind  pillars,  half  revealing,  half  concealing 
distance,  unfolding  vistas  suggestive  of  infin- 
ity. Across  an  arm  of  the  building  is  an 
inner  court  and  the  holy  fountain  of  ablutions. 
Five  times  a  day  must  the  Mohammedan 
bathe  his  limbs,  and  must  utter  his  profes- 
sion of  faith  in  eight  different  postures. 
Between  seven  and  noon  there  is  no  regular 
prayer  time  and  we  are  permitted  to  photo- 
graph. But  there  is  always  some  one  pray- 
ing, his  little  pile  of  surplus  garments  at  the 
foot  of  the  pillar  beside  him,  where  he  laid 
them  when  he  went  to  the  fountain.  His 
face  wears  that  strange  expression  when  the 
light  of  the  eyes  is  inward.  Round  and 
round  he  twirls  his  finger,  his  lips  move,  his 
eyes  are  fixed.  When  the  prayer  is  over  and 
he  walks  away  he  seems  scarcely  to  tread  the 
[  148] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

earth.  At  the  door  to  the  outer  court  he 
once  more  raises  his  arms  above  his  head,  his 
last  posture  of  devotion,  then  bends  to  slip 
his  shoes  on  and  walks  out,  wearing  that 
exalted  expression  which  is  the  only  change 
we  ever  witness  from  the  mask  of  stoical 
impassivity.  We  think  the  prophetic  dream 
of  old  is  here  to-day  in  the  mosque.  Or  do 
we  see  with  the  outer  eye  our  inner  dream 
of  it.? 

At  three  the  flag  is  flying  from  the  minaret 
for  the  hour  of  prayer.  Then,  especially  on 
Friday,  the  Mohammedan  Sabbath,  the  day 
on  which  God  created  Adam,  there  is  quite  a 
company  in  the  mosque,  sitting  on  the  floor 
in  a  circle  around  the  reader  of  the  Koran, 
who  faces  the  sack,  the  position  of  which 
indicates  the  direction  of  Mecca.  One  day, 
in  her  interest,  the  writer  unconsciously 
walked  out  of  the  big  slippers  with  which 
Europeans  must  cover  their  unholy  shoes; 
and  later  discovered  them  lying  side  by  side 
many  yards  away  across  the  floor,  their  bril- 
liant red  loudly  calling  attention  to  her  delin- 
quency. Could  she  reach  them  before  a 
Mohammedan  discovered  the  sacrilege !  For- 
tunately, the  devoutness  of  the  worshipers 
was  her  protection  and  shield.  Every  minute 
[  149] 


ALGIERS 

of  that  soft  journeying  was  torture  lest  her 
movement  should  direct  some  eyes  toward 
the  telltale  objects.  But  not  one  worshiper 
appeared  to  notice  her. 

That  devoutness, — is  it  purer  worship,  at 
least  more  for  the  sake  of  the  other  world 
and  less  for  this,  than  our  prayers  ?  For  the 
Mohammedan  is  a  fatalist.  Though  God 
slay  him,  yet  will  he  say:  '* Allah  is  great." 
His  prayers  are  prayers  of  adoration,  rather 
than  prayers  of  petition. 

Once  at  evening  at  the  close  of  Rhamadan, 
through  the  good  offices  of  one  who  has 
known  the  Arabs  many  years,  a  small  com- 
pany of  us  were  admitted  to  a  mosque  to  see 
the  ceremonies  which  end  the  long  fast.  It  is 
that  Turkish  mosque,  the  Mosque  de  la 
Pecherie,  on  the  corner  of  the  Place  du  Gou- 
vernement,  and  it  belongs  to  the  Malekite 
sect.  The  Long  Mosque,  the  older  Moorish 
building,  in  which  also  the  festival  was  kept, 
but  which  has  no  gallery  for  guests,  is  the 
property  of  the  Hanefites.  Both  sects  are 
Sunnites,  or  orthodox  believers,  in  distinction 
from  the  Shiites,  the  Fatimite  unorthodox 
sect  of  Persia. 

This  mosque  on  the  Place  du  Gouverne- 
[150] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

merit  is  built  upon  the  side  of  the  cliff  and, 
singularly  enough,  in  the  form  of  a  cross. 
It  is  said  to  have  been  constructed  for  the 
Turks  by  a  Christian  slave  who  was  an 
architect,  and  who  perished  for  his  temerity 
in  giving  it  this  shape,  that  his  blood  might 
purify  the  temple.  There  is  a  wooden  gallery 
leading  in  from  the  level  of  the  street.  In 
this  gallery  we  were  permitted  to  stand,  gaz- 
ing down  upon  the  scene.  Countless  candles 
illuminated  it;  countless  silent  figures  moved 
about  below  us.  There  was  neither  the 
sound  of  voice  nor  of  foot.  Gracefully  and 
naturally  the  groups  changed,  and  arranged 
themselves  along  the  edges  of  the  lines  of 
carpet,  facing  the  reader.  The  shoes  lay  in 
rows  before  them,  or  were  tucked  into  any 
convenient  niches  in  the  wall. 

The  haiks  were  all  removed.  Each  head 
was  covered  with  a  red  fez,  each  pair  of  shoul- 
ders with  the  pure  white  cloak.  When  the 
reader  began  there  were  responses  and  prayers ; 
the  worshipers,  sometimes  all  standing,  some- 
times seated,  moving  in  successive  waves,  as 
a  field  of  flowers  when  the  wind  passes  over 
it.  There  is  a  gallery  in  the  center  of  the 
cross,  and  from  it  a  choir  of  boys  chanted  in 
the  intervals  of  the  reading;  while  at  times, 
[  151  ] 


ALGIERS 

boys  moved  among  the  congregation,  sprink- 
ling the  hands  or  the  heads  with  the  dew  of 
fresh  jasmine  water.  We  also  were  anointed. 
Beside  us  in  our  high  position,  the  mayor, 
the  prefect  of  police,  and  several  soldiers 
watched;  the  first  two,  at  least,  as  invited 
guests.  Standing  there  in  that  old  wooden 
gallery  above  a  visionary  throng,  made  more 
so  by  the  rigors  of  the  fast,  strange  thoughts 
of  Samson  came  into  our  minds.  But  the 
service  was  over  safely;  the  worshipers 
carried  off  the  candles;  and  we  stepped  into 
the  outer  darkness,  pausing  to  thank  the  sheikh 
before  we  left. 

It  has  been  with  deeper  understanding 
that  from  this  time  on  we  have  traversed  the 
hidden  ways  of  the  ancient  El-Djezair. 

Many  are  our  trips  through  the  narrow 
passages  of  the  old  town.  They  bear  strange 
names,  these  streets.  The  Arabs  called  them, 
when  it  was  necessary  to  designate  them  at 
all,  by  some  familiar  mark — as  we  would  say, 
the  street  where  the  blacksmith  lives.  The 
French  caught  the  sounds  and,  with  careful 
attention  to  detail,  tried  to  reproduce  them 
in  French  spelling  and — possibly  to  his  horror 
— labeled  the  Arab's  streets  in  the  very 
stronghold  of  his  silence  with  neat  little  signs. 
[  152  ] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

So  was  named  the  Rue  Soggemah  in  which 
is  the  one  Oriental  bazaar  in  the  old  town. 
It  is  in  a  Moorish  building,  where,  if  you  but 
understand  the  Oriental  spirit  and  have  the 
Oriental  soul's  superiority  to  time,  you  may 
bargain  for  rugs  and  old  embroideries  and 
jewels,  prayer  ornaments,  rings,  and  pins  to 
fasten  the  haiks,  like  fans  spreading  back  to 
the  stick  and  secured  from  slipping  by  a 
large  crescent  on  the  pin  itself.  Here  is 
the  Kabyle  jewelry,  found  everywhere.  It 
comes  from  the  tribe  of  Ait-Yenni,  and  was 
only  done  in  silver,  but  now  is  made  of  base 
metal.  The  Kabyle  jewelers  have  never  worked 
in  gold.  Two  kinds  of  a  pattern  are  usually 
made,  one  enameled  and  the  other  plain,  or 
only  ornamented  with  bits  of  coral.  You  may 
also  find  the  modern  brasswork:  lamps  and 
coffee-pots  and  those  Oriental  cups  which 
make  such  charming   Western    finger-bowls. 

Farther  on  and  up  the  town  grows  deep 
and  silent,  as  are  the  ebbing  streams  of  its 
life.  The  steep  streets,  unlike  those  of  other 
Oriental  cities,  are  washed  to  a  certain  clean- 
ness by  the  rains.  Sometimes  a  rich-robed 
figure  emerges  quietly  from  a  low  door; 
veiled  women  glide  past  us  out  of  old  stories. 
They  remind  us  of  the  lily  and  her  lowly 
[153] 


ALGIERS 

origin  in  earth — as  does  the  best  in  the 
Arabian  tales. 

But  here  are  no  gay  bazaars,  such  as  we 
hear  of  in  Tunis  and  Cairo;  no  more  sign  of 
vitaUty  than  a  few  small  provision  shops, 
with  their  long  strings  of  onions,  and  their 
shorter  and  sweeter  strings  of  orange  buds. 
Nobody  seems  working  in  the  old  town, 
except  the  tribe  of  water-carriers  in  their  long 
blue  shirts,  with  their  copper  jugs  on  their 
shoulders,  bringing  refreshment  and  purifi- 
cation to  these  city  houses  from  the  foun- 
tains in  the  streets. 

Yet  behind  the  silence  tiny  fingers  are 
weaving  wondrous  webs.  In  one  Moorish 
house  little  girls  are  learning  the  embroidery 
stitch  which  their  great-grandmothers  knew. 
Early  in  the  French  occupation,  a  French- 
woman, realizing  that  the  art  of  Algerian 
embroidery  was  dying,  founded  this  school 
which  her  granddaughter  carries  on.  From 
the  beginning  they  collected  the  rare  old 
pieces,  once  so  lavishly  done:  napkins  long 
enough  to  encircle  the  table  and  to  cover  the 
laps  of  ten;  fine  indoor  head-coverings  of 
the  women ;  even  exquisite  caps  for  drying  the 
hair.  For  a  time  these  little  girls  will  con- 
tinue the  beautiful  work  of  the  Moorish  past, 
[  154] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

with  all  its  suggestion  of  poetry.  Attempts 
have  been  made  in  this  school  to  teach  the 
children  reading,  but  the  parents  object,  for 
it  injures  their  chances  of  marriage.  They 
leave  their  benefactress  soon  after  their  work 
becomes  valuable;  but  she  still  cares  for 
those  who  have  grown  old  since  her  grand- 
mother's time. 

In  another  Moorish  building  little  girls  are 
making  the  soft  rugs  which  win  the  Western 
hearts.  A  row  of  these  children,  each  with 
her  henna-dyed  hair  in  a  long  braid  wound 
with  a  kerchief,  is  a  quaint  picture.  They 
copy  patterns  placed  above  their  work,  and 
some  of  the  little  ones  are  so  small  they  are 
obliged  continually  to  climb  upon  the  bench 
to  see.  But  their  wee  fingers  pick  out  the 
threads  of  the  loom,  and  tie  and  cut  the  wool 
or  silk,  faster  than  our  eyes  can  follow.  An 
error,  detected  by  the  next  look  at  the  copy, 
is  as  rapidly  taken  out.  When  we  visited 
the  school,  some  of  the  quickest  children 
were  but  nine  years  old  and  had  been  scarcely 
six  months  there.  As  we  stood  in  the  Moor- 
ish court,  hung  round  with  rugs,  and  with 
looms  upon  all  sides,  there  floated  down  to 
us,  from  the  gallery  above,  the  sound  of  chil- 
dren singing — the  voices  of  other  little  work- 
[  155  ] 


ALGIERS 

ers — sweet  and  cool  and  clear  as  bird-notes 
or  the  splash  of  a  fountain  in  the  court. 

Boys,  in  the  good  old  Oriental  days,  were 
taught  to  read  and  write  the  Koran.  Now, 
many  of  them  attend  the  French  schools  and 
the  Lyceum,  to  be  educated  with  French 
boys.  Sir  Lambert  Playfair  seemed  to  think 
that  this  was  a  mistake. 

The  Lyceum  itself  is  one  of  the  finest  build- 
ings in  Algiers  and  can  board  eight  hundred 
students.  The  course  is  exactly  like  that  of 
all  other  Lycees  in  France,  but  the  objection  is 
the  mixture  of  Christian,  Jewish,  and  Moham- 
medan boys. 

All  through  the  narrow  passages  of  the 
old  town  we  find  always  in  the  otherwise 
almost  deserted  streets  these  children,  the 
new  life  of  El-Djezair.  They  line  our  path 
on  either  side,  or  flit  shyly  up  and  down  the 
steps  of  some  cross  street,  making  it  a  verita- 
ble Jacob's  Ladder.  The  girls  are  all  called 
Fathma,  for  the  daughter  of  the  prophet, 
with  some  individual  name  beside;  the  first- 
born sons  are  all  Mohammeds  and  their 
brothers  bear  some  variation  of  that  revered 
name,  or  one  of  its  attributes,  such  as  Ab- 
dallah,  Slave  of  God.  But  the  boys  wear  the 
responsibility  of  their  great  name  with  a  light 
[156] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

satisfaction,  as  boys  are  apt  to  do;  and  the 
girls! — the  girls  are  born  coquettes,  with 
sweet  and  musical  voices,  and  lithe  and 
graceful  forms.  Their  beauty  is  their  one 
chance  for  preservation.  They  are  irresisti- 
bly winning  as  they  dance  beside  us,  their 
heads  on  one  side,  their  exquisitely  formed, 
henna-stained  hands  held  out  while  they 
chant  a  sort  of  sing-song,  "Merci,  Madame; 
Madame,  merci!"  They  do  not  arrive  at 
the  dignity  of  womanhood:  that  is,  they  are 
not  taken  off  the  streets  and  veiled,  until 
they  are  ten  or  twelve,  or  begin  to  show  an 
interest  in  the  mirror.  They  are  married  at 
twelve  or  thirteen,  old  at  thirty.  Even  in 
their  brief  childhood  these  girls  are  burdened 
with  the  care  of  smaller  children,  often  car- 
ried on  the  back  to  enforce  the  plea  for  money. 
Two  of  these  little  mothers  we  see  almost 
every  day  at  a  place  where  we  change  cars. 
Poor  little  hard-worked  girls  with  their  great, 
wistful  dark  eyes — one  wonders  what  be- 
comes of  them  if  they  return  empty-handed. 
Can  we  hope  that  wife-beating  fathers  will 
spare  their  little  ones.'^  Yet  the  instincts  of 
the  Moors  are  not  brutal  and  there  are  many 
evidences  that  they  are  affectionate  parents. 
Frequently  we  see  poor  fathers  leading  their 
[157] 


ALGIERS 

children  tenderly  by  the  hand.  There  is  also 
a  Moorish  official  whom  we  often  notice 
accompanied  by  his  daughter,  in  her  cunning 
Moorish  costume,  the  exact  copy  of  a  woman's, 
except  uncovered  by  the  white  overgarments. 
His  is  a  beautiful  dreamy  face  and  he  watches 
her  with  loving  pride,  as  if  she  embodied  for 
him  the  mystery  of  life  in  an  ideal  relation. 
Moorish  children,  even  of  the  better  class, 
do  often  appear  dirty  and  neglected,  especially 
in  the  case  of  sons,  and  so  we  find  them  in. 
fine  Moorish  gardens;  but  it  seems  not  out 
of  place  in  the  garden,  for  it  is  a  reminder  of 
magic,  though  the  magic  of  the  evil  eye,  which 
the  parents  thus  attempt  to  avoid. 

On  one  of  our  visits  to  the  town  we  were 
admitted  to  a  Moorish  household.  Four  of 
us,  including  an  English  general  and  his 
wife,  had  been  spending  the  morning  in  El- 
Djezair.  A  man  upon  whom  the  general 
attempted  to  practice  Arabic  had  acted  as  a 
guide  and  had  led  us  to  his  own  home,  which 
was  like  a  rabbit  burrow  in  a  wall.  The 
general  remained  with  the  guide,  who  held 
open  the  door  that  we  might  see  to  make  our 
way  up  from  the  small  entrance  chamber  by 
a  tiny,  winding  stair  in  the  wall,  the  steps  of 
which  had  been  almost  obliterated.  Above, 
[158] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

in  another  diminutive  apartment,  with  a  ceil- 
ing too  low  to  permit  us  to  stand  upright, 
was  the  home  nest,  where  the  entire  family 
were  clustered.  Cooking  was  going  on;  and 
the  heat  and  close  air  were  intolerable,  so 
we  beat  a  hasty  retreat,  watched  on  our  way 
by  a  tiny  sprite  of  a  girl,  who  was  cuddled 
into  a  projecting,  iron-barred  window. 

Discouraged,  we  dismissed  our  guide  and 
went  on  through  the  town  alone.  A  small, 
self-elected  conductor  appeared  to  warn  us 
from  one  of  the  innumerable  cul-de-sacs, 
telling  us,  "It  only  ends  in  an  Arab  house.'* 
"Well,  but,"  we  replied,  "we  might  like  to 
see  the  house."  Whereupon  he  flew  ahead 
out  of  sight,  and  we  came  upon  him  just  as 
he  dropped  the  knocker  of  one  of  those 
stately  doors.  Now  we  should  see  the  Ara- 
bian Nights.  We  had  reached  the  end,  and 
the  portal  was  opened  by  a  woman,  who 
herself  kept  out  of  sight.  The  boy  explained 
that  we  wished  to  see  the  interior,  and  we 
women  were  eagerly  welcomed;  but  a  cry 
went  up  at  sight  of  the  general,  who  was 
obliged  to  remain  outside.  The  household 
proved  to  be  well-to-do;  and,  upon  entering 
the  court,  we  found  the  traditional  four 
wives  to  greet  us,  each  surrounded  by  her 
[159] 


ALGIERS 

own  brood  of  three  or  four.  We  dared  not 
praise  them,  however — no  greater  harm  could 
we  do  them  than  thus  to  attract  the  evil  eye! 
The  women  were  like  sisters  together.  We 
wondered  whether  they,  in  the  ennui  of 
changeless  lives,  or  we,  in  the  mood  for  con- 
stant change,  were  more  surprised  and  de- 
lighted with  the  visit.  They  were  as  inter- 
ested in  our  clothes  as  we  in  theirs,  examining 
the  texture  and  marveling  that  we  do  not 
wear  an  extra  number  of  coats  on  cold  days. 
They  themselves  were  charming  in  pretty 
house  costumes.  In  the  court  the  dinner  was 
being  cooked  on  one  of  their  curious  portable 
stoves.  But  the  women  hurried  us  to  their 
own  upper  world.  From  the  gallery  they 
ushered  us  into  one  of  their  four  apartments, 
the  usual  long  narrow  room.  There  were 
bright  cushions,  used  as  beds,  across  it,  side 
by  side  down  part  of  its  length.  Most  im- 
portant, however,  was  the  object  to  which 
the  women  pointed  with  pride,  and  for  which 
it  was  evident  they  had  brought  us  there — 
a  piano!  They  would  not  let  us  go  till  we 
had  played  for  them.  Meanwhile,  the  gen- 
eral stood  without,  with  such  patience  as  he 
could  command.  In  this  land  where  women 
are  accounted  so  far  below  men,  foreign 
[160] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

women  possess  an  advantage  over  their 
lords. 

But  we  do  not  expect  to  be  merely  enter- 
tained. Where  can  one  go  among  the  peo- 
ple and  not  have  one's  heart  ache  through  the 
feeling  of  common  humanity.  This  is  par- 
ticularly the  case  in  Algeria,  where  a  race 
conformed  to  an  alien  civilization  presents  a 
constant  and  sometimes  a  painful  incongru- 
ity. The  humor  of  the  situation  seems  a 
trifle  grim,  like  that  in  the  situation  of  the 
captives  cut  or  stretched  to  fit  the  robber's 
bed.  And  still  I  think  they  sleep,  deeper  and 
deeper,  trying  to  forget.  The  closer  draw  their 
prison  walls,  the  closer  their  inner  life  is  hid. 

On  the  Friday  following  Rhamadan,  we  go 
to  one  of  the  two  large  Arab  cemeteries.  The 
men  are  at  prayer  in  the  city  mosques;  but 
the  women  are  gathered  here;  and  no  man 
of  their  own  or  of  any  nationality,  no  man 
except  the  blind  beggar,  may  come  within  the 
gates  of  the  high  walls.  The  Mohammedans 
believe  that  the  spirits  of  the  dead  may 
return  on  that  day  of  the  week,  and  the  women 
and  their  children  go  to  keep  them  company. 

The  cemetery  is  full  to  overflowing  with 
the  dead.  A  small  boy  once  told  us  that  his 
mother  could  not  be  buried  in  the  grave  with 
[161] 


ALGIERS 

his  father,  because  the  grave  was  "complet." 
When  asked  how  many  "complet"  meant, 
he  answered,  quite  as  if  speaking  of  a  matter 
of  course,  "Trente." 

The  body  of  the  adult  Mohammedan  is 
borne  on  the  shoulders  on  a  sort  of  bier,  the 
carrying  of  which  is  sure  to  bring  good  luck, 
so  that  the  bearers  are  continually  changed 
on  the  way.  Babies  are  carried  on  small 
cushions  in  the  arms.  Only  men  attend  the 
burial,  walking  in  irregular  groups.  The 
body  is  placed  in  the  earth  without  any 
casket,  half-sitting  and  facing  the  East.  Mo- 
hammedans leave  some  one  to  stay  beside  the 
dead  the  first  night,  to  repeat  for  the  soul  the 
responses  to  Asrayl,  the  archangel  questioner, 
which  the  poor  spirit  may  have  forgotten. 

Though  the  cemetery  we  visit  is  the  prin- 
cipal one  in  use  to-day,  it  is  from  a  Christian 
standpoint  an  utterly  neglected,  unkempt  and 
desolate  acre.  The  stones,  shaped  like  a 
head  and  shoulders,  lean  every  way  in  the 
rank  grass;  the  small  cribs  on  the  grave 
centers  are  half  full  of  rain  water.  And 
grouped  around  each,  almost  sitting  in  the 
water  where  the  graves  are  sunken,  are  the 
family  parties — picnicking!  Small  boys  go 
about  with  trays  of  Moorish  candy  for  sale; 
[162] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

and  the  women  and  children  scatter  orange 
peel  and  bits  of  cake,  for  they  have  come 
to  spend  the  day  and  must  lunch.  More- 
over it  is  the  only  outing  good  women  ever 
have,  and  they  must  come  in  companies  of 
relatives.  The  stages  going  out  to  the  ceme- 
teries are  crowded  with  them. 

Surely  no  more  ghostly  sight  could  be 
imagined  than  this  cemetery  full  of  grave- 
stones; more  full  of  white-robed,  hooded 
figures,  wuth  adjar  off  and  great  dark  eyes 
beneath  pale  brows,  eyes  which  are  lovely 
even  over  the  white  veils.  For  as  one  sense 
is  sharpened  to  take  impressions  when  its 
owner  is  deprived  of  the  others,  so  may  one 
means  of  expression,  like  these  dark  eyes,  be 
intensified.  Theirs  is  a  beauty  not  unknown 
in  other  lands,  where  it  sometimes  appears, 
especially  among  the  peasantry,  whose  veil 
is  ignorance.  In  every  rank,  it  is  the  expres- 
sion of  what  cannot  otherwise  be  told,  and 
is  therefore  an  appeal,  the  witness  to  some- 
thing deeper  speaking  through  the  individual 
life.     Is  it  not  essentially  the  woman  beauty.? 

As  we  watch  them,  remembering  that  the 
men  are  at  prayer,  they  bring  to  us  in  bodily 
form  the  images  of  haunting  spiritual  pres- 
ences in  the  East.  Are  these  indeed  the 
[163] 


ALGIERS 

suffering  spirits  of  the  race?  At  least  they 
signify,  in  this  place  of  death,  the  continuance 
of  creative  life. 

Seven  open  graves  we  count  as  we  pass 
out — it  was  five  when  we  came  before.  Yet 
El-Djezair  is  a  small  city.  We  remember 
that  it  is  the  fasting  month  of  Rhamadan, 
which  has  brought  cruel  suffering  and  death. 

The  Mohammedan  year  is  divided  into 
months  of  moons,  which  division  slightly 
varies  every  year,  the  season  of  the  fast. 
During  Rhamadan,  from  sunrise  to  sunset 
the  good  Mohammedan  may  not  touch  so 
much  as  a  drop  of  water.  The  penalty  for 
any  one  caught  taking  wine  was  death.  The 
law  may  no  longer  be  enforced  by  this  pun- 
ishment, but  fear  of  worse  evils  in  the  long 
after- journey  still  deters  men. 

That  they  are  faithful  we  had  various 
opportunities  of  learning.  Among  others,  was 
the  case  of  a  young  girl,  ill  with  tuberculosis. 
A  French  woman  whom  we  knew  took  her 
in,  and  by  feeding  her  with  the  most  nutri- 
tious food  had  succeeded  in  giving  her  a 
new  start  toward  life.  But  Rhamadan  came 
and  the  girl  would  fast  with  the  rest.  Then 
she  pleaded  to  be  allowed  to  make  a  pilgrim- 
age to  her  old  home.  Through  the  help  of 
[164] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

the  good  French  lady,  who  realized  that  now 
it  was  all  the  poor  child  had  left  to  desire, 
she  was  sent  home,  but  returned  to  her 
friend,  only  in  time  to  breathe  her  last.  The 
girl  died,  pleading  for  a  soothing  medicine, 
but  denied  by  her  mother,  who  felt  that  it 
was  necessary  to  know  the  exact  moment 
of  the  soul's  departure  in  order  to  pray  for 
it.  Thus  does  their  religion  help  to  make 
the  Mohammedans  stoical.  The  body  and 
physical  life  are  less  to  them  than  to  us. 

However,  the  rich  do  not  suffer  much  in 
Rhamadan;  they  simply  turn  night  into  day 
and  do  but  listen  for  the  sunset  gun.  But  the 
poor  who  are  obliged  to  work  by  day — the 
drivers  and  those  graceful  hod-carriers  work- 
ing on  the  French  buildings,  feel  it  cruelly. 

It  would  seem  as  if  poverty  among  the 
natives  in  Algiers  has  not  decreased  since  the 
change  of  government.  Many  a  man  has 
lost  his  all,  and  the  children  are  still  beggars, 
under  Western  modes  of  giving.  Yet  the 
land  is  rich,  and  almsgiving  is  a  part  of  the 
Mohammedan  religion.  When  wealthy  Moors 
were  here,  the  poor  did  not  fare  so  badly, 
especially  during  Rhamadan.  Though  there 
were  no  organized  charities,  there  was  a 
spirit  of  brotherhood  between  all  classes. 
[165] 


ALGIERS 

Now  many  of  the  rich  are  gone;  and  another 
form  of  life,  for  which  his  nature  was  not 
made,  has  been  forced  upon  the  poor  man. 
No  wonder  that  when  his  fast  falls  in  the 
winter  he  now  calls  it  a  "good  Rhamadan." 
When  it  comes  in  the  heat  of  an  Algerian 
summer,  the  time  when  building  is  done  for 
the  following  season,  and  when  the  sirocco 
blows  like  a  blast  from  a  furnace,  withering 
all  living  things,  while  he  may  not  have  one 
drop  of  water  to  cool  his  tongue — it  must  be 
a  purgatory  to  cleanse  him  of  many  sins. 

Has  it  not  always  been  true  in  history  that 
an  alien  civilization  destroys  the  life  which 
did  not  grow  to  it,  but  is  cut  to  fit  it.^  Surely, 
as  surely  as  the  French  building  is  destroying 
the  Moorish  architecture,  the  French  life  is 
supplanting  the  Oriental. 

Does  it  matter.^  Is  it  not  the  natural  course 
of  events  that  what  stands  in  the  way  of  our 
civilization  must  go.'^  How  many  civilizations 
have  raised  that  plea!  France  merely  in- 
tends to  make  over.  Is  there  any  deeper 
significance,  a  significance,  perhaps,  to  the 
world,  in  her  method  of  solving  the  problem 
of  Algeria.?  Will  that  method  be  extended 
in  time  to  Tunis  and  Morocco.? 

For  the  Moorish  life  is  passing,  is  even  now 
[166] 


HIDDEN    WAYS 

a  vision  which  flits  whitely  through  marble 
courts  and  arches  where  we  are  conscious  of 
it.  Beauty  and  poetry  hide  amid  the  papyrus 
of  the  ancient  bathing  fountains  in  those 
courts,  which  are  the  same  as  "the  middle  of 
the  house"  referred  to  in  Hebrew  scriptures, 
with  their  cedars  of  Lebanon  for  beams  and 
their  shades  which  remind  us  of  the  Psalm- 
ist's simile.  The  veiled  figures  which  belong 
in  them  are  cloaked  in  the  seamless  white 
garment. 

A  dreaminess  rests  upon  the  land;  its 
people  slumber  deeper  and  still  dream;  and 
we,  who  would  interpret  the  Dream  of  Ages, 
enter  into  the  spell. 

All  is  indeed  asleep,  the  essence  of  the 
Orient  a  dream,  an  inner  consciousness  to 
be  interpreted  by  the  West. 

But  out  at  a  country  market,  where  a  host 
of  patriarchal  Arabs  congregate,  as  they  do 
in  a  different  and  stated  place  on  each  day 
of  the  week,  we  are  conscious  of  something 
else.  Here  are  the  tents,  the  cattle,  and  the 
sheep.  Here  are  Laban  and  Jacob  again. 
These  are  they  still  capable  of  waking  to  the 
cry   of   a  prophet,   "Thus   saith  the   Lord!" 

[  167  ] 


INTO  THE  PRESENT 


INTO  THE   PRESENT 

THERE  is  a  drive  of  some  ten  miles 
westward  from  Algiers  to  a  Trappist 
monastery.  The  way  leads  step  by 
step  through  all  the  story  of  Algeria.  We 
take  the  lower  road,  around  the  Cape  Caxine, 
the  western  point  of  the  crescent  enclosing 
the  bay  of  Algiers.  And  first  above  the 
still  French  cemeteries  shines  the  church 
of  the  conquerors,  the  sailors'  church,  for  the 
French  must  come  by  sea  to  Algeria.  Notre 
Dame  d'Afrique  reminds  us  that  Algiers 
is  still  the  port,  and  there  one  may,  perhaps, 
feel  more  of  the  religion  of  France  than  in  the 
city  cathedral  where  the  army  is  represented, 
and  where  the  presence  of  the  troops  gives 
the  Sunday  service  a  military  character. 

Notre  Dame  belongs  to  the  days  of  that 
fervent  worker  in  Africa,  Archbishop  Lavi- 
gerie.  It  stands  so  high  on  the  end  of  the 
hills  that  from  it  one  can  see  only  the  water 
at  its  foot — the  square  before  it  seems  to 
overhang  the  sea.  It  is  a  weirdly  windy 
[171] 


ALGIERS 

place,  where  the  self-strippe<l  eucaly{)tiis 
scourges  itself  and  moans.  On  the  edge  of 
the  open  space  is  a  catafahjue,  and  there 
every  Sunday  is  performed  a  strange  service. 
People  call  it,  "Hlessing  the  Sea,"  a  beautiful 
and  impressive  full  funeral  rite  over  that  vast 
grave  for  all  who  have  gone  down  in  the  sea 
during  the  week.  There  is  a  story  that  it 
was  the  outcome  of  a  vow  made  by  the  Arch- 
bishop when  he  was  caught  in  a  storm  on  his 
way  from  Marseilles. 

There  is  an  inscription  in  Notre  Dame 
d'Afrique,  "Our  Lady  of  Africa,  pray  for  us 
and  for  the  Mussulmans";  yet  when  we 
passed  through  the  church  we  could  not  but 
wonder  what  was  the  effect  of  its  images,  its 
votive  offerings  of  papier-mache  limbs,  upon 
two  little  Moorish  girls  who  flitted  through 
with  us. 

Nevertheless,  the  Mussulman  has  some 
respect  for  "revelations,"  of  which  he  con- 
siders the  Christians  possess  one.  It  is  no 
faith  which  most  disturbs  or  demoralizes 
him. 

Our  way  leads  through  the  suburb  of  the 

wealthier   Hebrews — St.    Eugene — which    lies 

low   and   damp   by  the  water.     Beyond,  the 

land  is   rugged,   sometimes   quite   mountain- 

[172] 


Notre  Dame  d'Afrique 


INTO    THE    PRESENT 

ous,  a  succession  of  points  and  bays.  The 
heights  stand  out,  strange  shapes  and  awe- 
some Hghts  and  shades  against  a  cloudless 
sky.  The  vines  about  their  feet  are  pro- 
tected by  wind-breaks.  On  a  jutting  crag 
are  two  Turkish  forts:  that  which  is  nearer 
the  road,  now  used  for  customs;  the  other, 
out  on  the  bare  rocks  where  not  even  the 
asphodels  will  grace  it,  more  rugged  than  ever 
in  its  ruins,  was  the  residence  of  Horush 
Baba-Aroudj,  the  Turkish  Corsair. 

We  pass  Moorish  houses  and  places 
named  for  Roman  ruins,  besides  a  genuine 
Roman  quarry.  Back  in  the  hills  is  the 
Kabyle  village  of  Bouzarea;  and  up  on  a 
^ough  hillside,  a  Megalithic  grotto.  There 
are  no  trees  on  the  hill,  and  one  climbs  a 
narrow,  winding  trail  at  the  direction  of  the 
driver,  who  sits  below.  What  matter  if, 
instead  of  prehistoric  relics  of  the  Bronze 
Age,  investigation  bring  to  light  only  an  old 
tin  can!  The  path  continues  to  wind  up- 
ward, until  it  leads  one  into  a  rough  pass, 
where  two  worlds  lie  spread  out  below,  a 
beautiful  bay  on  either  side,  and  mountains 
and  vineyards.  The  grotto  is  declared  authen- 
tic. There  are  many  prehistoric  monuments 
not  far  from  Algiers,  dolmens,  cromlechs  and 
[173] 


ALGIERS 

excavations, — some   said   to  be   like  those  in 
other  countries,  and  some  (piite  distinctive. 

So  this  one  drive  goes  hack  throu<;h  every 
chapter  to  tlie  time  before  liistory  was  invented. 
On  our  return  we  shall  reconstruct  the  I'lciu  h 
story  which  is  behind  the  present  situation. 

We  have  gone  around  the  {)eniiisuhi  on 
the  east  of  wiiich  li(\s  Algiers.  Hcforc  us 
stretches  Sidi-Feruch,  a  cape  some  thousand 
yards  in  length.  *' Sidi  "  signifies  master  or 
lord,  a  holy  man.  Legend  h.is  it  that  a 
Spaniard,  landing  here  some  centuries  ago, 
found  Sidi-Feruch  asleep  and  bore  him  off 
to  sell  him  as  a  slave.  The  wind  was  favor- 
able and  filled  the  sails;  but  the  ship  would 
not  move.  The  Christian  realized  tliat  this 
was  a  miracle,  and  was  so  impressed  that 
he  became  a  life-long  friend  to  the  holy  man; 
and  when  they  died,  both  were  Imried  in  one 
grave  on  the  spot  where  they  found  each 
other.  Not  many  years  since,  the  bodies 
were  discovered  and  brought  to  Staoueli. 
Was  the  legend  a  prophecy  that  Christians 
and  Mussulmans  should  some  day  live  to- 
gether here.''  So  often  the  Present  reveals  a 
deep  truth  hidden  in  the  Past,  to  which  in 
time  we  return,  understanding  the  meaning 
of  legend  in  its  fulfillment. 
[174] 


INTO    THE    PRESENT 

It  was  here  at  Sidi-Feruch  that  the  French 
army  landed  to  storm  Algiers  from  above 
and  behind  while  the  fleet  should  attack  it 
in  front.  Near  Staoueli  in  the  central  plain 
of  the  peninsula  of  Algiers,  the  decisive  battle 
was  fought  which  wrested  the  Moorish  land 
from  its  former  Turkish  conquerors. 

On  the  spot  where  the  struggle  took  place, 
the  Trappist  monastery  stands,  a  seal  upon 
the  return  of  Roman  Christianity  to  the 
shore  whence  it  had  been  banished  for  more 
than  a  thousand  years.  Thus  is  the  religious 
drama  complete.  Moreover,  in  the  Chris- 
tian Crusades  in  the  East  the  predominating 
influence  of  the  Franks  had  caused  their 
name  to  be  given  by  the  Mohammedans  to 
all  Europeans.  They  were  now  in  control  of 
a  Mohammedan  land.  Here  in  the  wilder- 
ness the  first  mass  was  performed  by  the 
monks  for  the  souls  of  the  dead  soldiers. 
But  for  hundreds  of  years  before  that,  the 
ministry  of  self-sacrificing  Catholic  priests 
was  almost  the  only  solace  of  thousands  of 
Christian  captives.  After  the  conquest,  Arch- 
bishop Lavigerie,  who  should  be  the  patron 
saint  of  Catholic  Africa,  established  the 
religious  influence  of  France. 

Here  then,  at  Staoueli,  sixty  years  ago,  the 
[175] 


ALGIERS 

Trappist  monks,  originally  driven  from  France 
and  seeking  rest  in  country  after  country, 
found  a  home.  They  begged  from  the  French 
government  some  twenty-five  hundred  acres 
of  worthless  swamp  land.  The  swamp  is 
transformed  into  a  fine  farm  garden;  they 
have  caused  the  wilderness  to  blossom  as  the 
rose. 

Above  the  great  door  of  the  monastery  is 
the  inscription,  "Janua  Coeli,"  and  within 
the  motto,  "If  it  be  sad  to  live  at  La  Trappe, 
how  sweet  it  is  to  die  there!"  Do  they  realize 
how  their  austerity  is  a  product  of  the  East  ? 
Outside  the  walls,  in  the  open  plain,  is  a 
close  little  grove  of  cypresses  enfolding  their 
cemetery;  an  oasis  in  the  desert  of  life.  The 
living  monks  never  speak;  they  have  already 
entered  into  the  eternal  silence.  Neverthe- 
less, lay  brothers  do  the  ceremonies  for  the 
guests.  Around  the  walls  of  the  lunch-room 
are  cabinets  with  Catholic  souvenirs  and  with 
geranium  essence  for  sale. 

The  lunch  itself  is  part  of  tlie  interest  of 
the  visit.  It  is  vegetarian,  cooked  in  olive 
oil;  and  the  wine  is  the  specialty  of  the 
monastery.  Here  the  ordinary  wine  is  almost 
as  rich  and  pure  as  the  unfermented  grape 
juice  used  in  sacrament,  and  the  eucalyptus 
_   [  176  ] 


INTO    THE    PRESENT 

cordial  has  made  the  place  famous.  Men  are 
taken  to  see  the  great  wine  cellars  and  the 
whole  establishment;  but  women  are  not 
admitted  beyond  the  lunch -room,  even  to 
the  grounds;  and  we  are  left  to  amuse  our- 
selves outside  the  walls  and  the  "Gate  of 
Heaven." 

A  lay  brother  makes  an  interesting  state- 
ment to  one  of  our  escort.  In  spite  of  their 
labor  in  creating  this  farm,  the  Trappists 
in  their  possession  now  feel  insecure.  It  is 
no  wonder.  All  the  world  is  watching  with 
interest  the  struggle  between  the  French  gov- 
ernment and  the  Church.  Over  on  the 
eastern  end  of  the  Sahel,  at  Koubba,  so 
named  from  the  Arabic  word  for  the  tomb 
which  nestles  there,  was  a  seminary  where 
priests  were  trained  and  where  the  present 
Archbishop  had  apartments.  The  beautiful 
buildings,  a  great  cloister  surrounding  a 
church,  are  a  landmark  from  Algiers.  From 
the  flat  roofs,  used  by  the  monks  as  their 
exercising  ground,  is  a  glorious  view  extend- 
ing on  one  side  to  the  sea;  on  the  other,  to  the 
Atlas  Mountains.  These  buildings  were  to 
be  taken  from  the  priests  and  turned  into 
barracks;  and  the  monks  were  to  take  refuge 
in  England. 

[  177  ] 


ALGIERS 

Our  road  home  from  Staoueli  is  the  road  of 
the  victorious  French  army.  It  leads  across 
the  sunht  {)hiin.  l*caceful  agricultural  country 
sleeps  now  and  dreams  where  tempests  passed. 
It  is  French  cultivation  of  the  southern  Moor- 
ish land. 

Wonderful  richness  of  soil  combines  with 
the  absence  of  all  cold.  Of  some  vegetables 
there  are  three  and  four  crops  in  a  year. 
Geraniums  are  seven  fed  high;  syringa 
blossoms  large  as  our  own  wild  roses;  and 
the  roses  themselves  no  words  can  describe. 
Farther  l)ack  are  plMiit;itioiis  of  the  great 
white  flowers  from  which  the  attar  of  ro.se 
is  made. 

This  coast  was  once  tlie  granary  of  south- 
ern Europe.  And  the  Arabs,  though  they 
are  not  skilled  in  agriculture,  still  keep  some 
of  the  old  ideas  of  its  sacredness.  They  con- 
sider the  making  of  a  plow  a  <lccd  of  |)iety; 
the  theft  of  one,  a  sacrilcg(\ 

But  it  is  the  French  intelligence  and  infinite 
pains  which  have  revived  the  fields  of  Algeria. 
Frenchmen  have  drained  the  deadly  marshes, 
fatal  to  unacclimated  lives — so  fatal  to  many 
of  their  numbers  that  in  true  French  spirit 
they  named  an  early  settlement  in  the  plain 
behind  the  hills,  "La  Cimetiere."  They 
[178] 


INTO    THE    PRESENT 

have  planted  the  fever-warding,  fever-smiting 
eucalyptus;  and  the  labor  of  their  hands, 
their  smiling  fields  and  vineyards,  are  pro- 
tected from  diseases  from  without  by  wise 
and  stringent  laws. 

So  we  knew  the  careful  spirit  living  in  the 
fields  and  woods. 

There  are  groves  of  the  eucalypti,  lids  lift- 
ing from  the  white  cups  of  their  blossoms  to 
free  the  circlets  of  pale  golden  life  within; 
there  are  feathery  pines  and  graceful  palms, 
and  the  southern  cypresses.  One  loves  best 
of  all  the  cypresses.  They  guard  the  entrance 
to  each  villa,  and  stand  sentinel  where  the 
loved  are  laid  away,  their  tall  spires  giving 
point  and  meaning  to  a  country  otherwise 
almost  too  fair. 

On  the  uplands  the  hedges  are  of  aloes, 
soft  and  dreamy  in  hue,  but  deadly  as  a  row 
of  bayonets;  and  everywhere  the  giant  cacti 
grow.  Not  far  away  is  a  Kabyle  village, 
built  in  the  ruins  of  a  Roman  town,  the 
whole  hidden  away  in  a  ravine  and  so  com- 
pletely covered  with  the  cacti  that  only  the 
barking  of  a  dog  or  the  braying  of  a  donkey 
reveals  its  whereabouts. 

The  fields  through  which  we  passed  are 
peopled  with  Marguerites  and  Jacks-in-the- 
[179] 


ALGIERS 

Pulpit;  and,  like  upturned  roots  amid  the  myr- 
iad marigolds,  is  the  treasure  of  Algeria.  "In 
this  predestined  plot  of  earth — the  vine  had 
cast  a  fiber."  Its  grapes  represent  and  are 
the  essence  of  the  richness  and  the  sunshine 
of  the  land. 

Truly,  Algeria  seems  a  garden  where  man 
need  scarcely  toil. 

Just  before  we  reach  Mustapha,  at  El- 
Biar,  the  winter  residence  of  a  colony  of 
English  and  of  various  consuls,  we  find  the 
villa  where  the  surrender  of  Algiers  was  con- 
cluded, and  the  Oriental  government  ceased 
to  be. 


[180] 


CHANCE  AND  CHANGE 


CHANCE  AND   CHANGE 

WHAT  has  been  the  latest  chapter  of 
the  story,  and  what  are  the  methods 
of  France?  The  French  soldiers 
found  treasure  in  the  Kasba,  France  found  a 
great  province.  It  has  been  often  said  that 
the  French  are  not  a  colonizing  people.  They 
were  totally  unprepared  for  the  task  of  gov- 
erning Algeria.  Consequently  the  country 
was  under  military  rule  for  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury; and  the  questions  it  presented  have  cost 
France  more  lives  than  were  lost  in  our  own 
Revolution.  Moreover,  the  French  were  busy 
with  upheavals  in  Europe;  and  more  than 
once  it  was  proposed  to  give  up  the  new  pos- 
session. But  empires  were  being  formed; 
what  country  once  holding  such  a  prize,  such 
a  share  of  the  earth's  territory,  ever  has 
voluntarily  let  go.^  France  has  retained  Al- 
geria. 

Soon    after   the   French   took   the   country 
great  numbers  of  the  better  class  of  Moors 
emigrated     from     Algiers.     Their     beautiful 
[183] 


ALGIERS 

villas  and  those  of  the  banished  Turks  be- 
came the  property  of  the  French  officers;  as 
did  others  confiscated  after  the  insurrections. 
This  explains  how  our  own  villa  occupation 
came  about.  The  officers  were  unable  to 
maintain  such  estates,  and  they  changed 
hands  for  a  song.  Some  have  become  resi- 
dences; others,  hotels;  while  the  summer 
palace  of  Hussein  Dey  by  the  water  is  now 
a  tobacco  warehouse.  The  great  palace  and 
garden  of  the  Deys  in  the  city  was  destroyed 
to  make  the  Place  du  Gouvernement,  in 
spite  of  the  earnest  pleading  of  M.  Berb rugger, 
the  conservator  of  the  Musee.  Numberless 
fountains  were  sold  and  destroyed.  We  are 
informed  that  some  four  hundred  mosques 
in  Algeria  have  been  demolished,  some  hav- 
ing previously  been  used  by  the  French  as 
warehouses  or  barracks.  The  site  of  one, 
next  to  the  Governor's  residence  in  the  old 
palace  of  Hassan,  is  occupied  by  the  Cath- 
olic cathedral,  containing  material  from  the 
mosque.  Col.  Playfair  remarks,  "The  ex- 
terior is  ...  a  very  unsuccessful  attempt  to 
combine  Moorish  with  Christian  architec- 
ture. .  .  .  The  pulpit  is  the  Mimbar  of  the 
original  Mosque  spoilt  by  French  millinery." 
Might  not  this  use  of  the  Moorish  building 
[184] 


CHANCE    AND    CHANGE 

seem  to  the  people  a  crowning  cause  of 
feeling? 

At  first  the  French  soldiers  had  much  to 
suffer  in  conquering  this  country;  therefore 
such  violation  of  the  feelings  of  the  Algerines 
often  seemed  necessary  to  provide  the  con- 
querors with  shelter  or  with  proper  sanita- 
tion. But  the  present  destruction  appears 
wanton. 

A  fine  European  city  is  being  constructed 
upon  El-Djezair.  What  a  mockery  that  surely, 
remorselessly,  against  the  protest  of  some 
of  her  own  people,  art-loving  France  has 
been  destroying  forever  the  exquisite  Oriental 
art  of  the  old  city.  Moreover,  those  mosques 
which  remain  in  Algiers  may  be  entered 
freely  by  Christians.  Small  wonder  that  the 
Semitic  subjects,  whose  unpractical  life  is 
faith  or  nothing,  though  at  first  inclined  to 
welcome  the  change  of  masters,  have  listened 
to  the  voices  of  prophets  rising  among  them, 
as  prophets  have  risen  and  been  listened  to 
among  these  people  from  the  beginning  of 
history,  and  have  revolted  against  their  con- 
querors of  an  alien  faith,  or,  still  worse,  no 
faith  at  all. 

All  the  world  knows  of  Abd-el-Kader. 
Marshal  Soult  called  him  one  of  the  only 
[185] 


ALGIERS 

three  great  men  who  were  then  living,  all 
being  Mohammedans.  The  others  were 
Mohammed  Ali,  Pacha  of  Egypt,  and  Schamyl. 

Abd-el-Kader  was  a  descendant  of  the 
Prophet,  and  his  own  father  was  celebrated 
over  all  North  Africa  for  piety  and  charity. 

He  himself  was  taken  on  two  pilgrimages 
to  Mecca,  and  visited  Bagdad.  By  the  time 
he  was  twenty-four  he  was  hailed  as  Sultan 
by  certain  warlike  tribes  in  the  west  of  Al- 
geria. 

His  supremacy  had  evolved  quite  naturally 
out  of  the  existing  condition  of  things. 

When  the  French  took  Algiers  and  the 
Turkish  repression  was  released,  the  Arab 
tribes  immediately  fell  into  anarchy.  Out  of 
the  chaos  rose  one  cry — the  cry  for  a  ruler  of 
their  own  religion.  The  people  of  Tlem^en 
sent  to  Morocco,  begging  the  ruler  there  that 
a  prince  of  his  family  might  be  made  their 
Sultan.  But  the  French  checked  this  first 
patriotic  move — if  that  may  be  called  patriot- 
ism which  is  for  a  religion  rather  than  for  a 
country — by  diplomatic  measures.  Never- 
theless, they  could  not  prevent  the  rising 
insurrection.  Abd-el-Kader's  father  was 
asked  to  be  Sultan.  He  refused  on  account 
of  age;  but  took  command  of  troops  to  harass 
[186] 


CHANCE    AND    CHANGE 

the  advancing  frontier  of  the  French  in 
Oran.  Abd-el-Kader's  strong  qualities  began 
to  be  revealed  and  to  develop.  He  was 
finally  proclaimed  Sultan  and  commenced  at 
once  to  preach  the  holy  war  against  the 
infidel. 

In  the  first  encounter  "he  proved  his  own 
earnestness,  and  sealed,  as  it  were,  the  cove- 
nant with  the  blood  of  his  family,  his  nephew 
having  been  killed  by  the  French."  After  a 
series  of  encounters  the  French  made  over- 
tures of  peace;  and  in  February,  1834,  Gen- 
eral Desmichels  and  Abd-el-Kader  made  a 
treaty,  "  in  which  the  position  of  the  Emir  was 
distinctly  recognized,  but  no  recognition  on 
his  part  of  the  sovereignty  of  France  was 
even  implied.  .  .  .  Each  of  the  con- 
tracting parties  drew  up  a  paper  of  conditions, 
which  was  signed  by  the  opposite  party;  and 
it  was  only  the  French  paper,  signed  by  the 
Emir,  which  received  the  ratification  of  Louis 
Philippe.  This  was,  however,  unknown  to 
Abd-el-Kader,  who  believed  that  his  terms 
were  as  binding  on  the  French  as  their  terms 
were  on  him." 

The  Emir  now  felt  free  to  organize  his 
own  government;  and  "in  a  short  time  he 
was  undisputed  master  of  the  entire  province 
[187] 


ALGIERS 

of  Oran,  which  he  held  not  so  much  by  his 
sword  as  by  the  love  and  admiration  of  all 
those  wise  enough  to  prefer  order  to  anarchy."* 

Tribes  in  the  other  provinces  began  to  look 
to  him.  A  delegation  came  from  Medeah  to 
beg  him  to  assume  the  government  of  Titeri; 
upon  which  he  placed  governors  or  Khalifas 
in  Medeah  and  Milianah. 

Governor-General  D'Erlon  now  sent  a 
mission  to  him  in  Medeah,  bringing  presents 
and  offering  to  substitute  another  treaty  for 
that  of  General  Desmichels.  "The  Emir 
suddenly  resolved  to  return  to  Maskara,  and 
induced  the  French  mission  to  return  in  his 
suite,  which  produced  an  immense  effect  in 
his  favor  among  the  Arab  tribes.  Imme- 
diately on  his  arrival  there  he  dismissed  the 
mission  with  a  statement  of  the  conditions  on 
which  he  would  consent  to  treat  with  the 
Governor-General,  which  were  in  effect  a 
mere  revival  of  those  in  the  Desmichels 
treaty." 

An  amusing  story  is  told  of  an  interview 
between  Abd-el-Kader  and  a  French  general, 
which  also  serves  to  illustrate  the  difficulty 
of  a  mutual  understanding.  Both  leaders 
sat    informally    upon    the    grass    during    the 

*  Sir  Lambert  Playfair. 

[  188  ] 


CHANCE    AND    CHANGE 

discussion.  At  the  close  of  the  interview  the 
Frenchman  stood,  but  Abd-el-Kader  re- 
mained upon  the  ground.  Chagrined,  the 
general  quickly  put  out  his  hand  and  raised 
him.  Said  the  Frenchman,  "I  forced  him 
to  rise!"  Said  Abd-el-Kader,  "I  forced  him 
to  do  me  a  service!" 

Hostilities  soon  commenced  again,  upon 
the  Emir's  considering  that  existing  conven- 
tions had  been  broken.  In  the  treaty  of  the 
Tafna  which  followed.  May  30,  1837,  France 
was  obliged  to  yield  to  the  Emir  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  province  of  Oran  and  two-thirds 
of  that  of  Algiers. 

As  Col.  Playfair  remarks,  "This  state  of 
things  could  not  last  long."  After  the  French 
had  taken  Constantine,  a  dispute  arose  con- 
cerning the  boundaries  of  the  Metidja  plain; 
and  this,  with  the  advance  of  the  French  army, 
was  considered  by  the  Emir  a  breach  of  the 
treaty.  "The  French  were  nothing  loth  to 
extricate  themselves  from  a  position  which 
had  become  exceedingly  inconvenient,  and 
on  their  part  commenced  offensive  operations. 

"  Once  more  Abd-el-Kader  raised  the  stand- 
ard of  a  holy  war,  and  massacres  of  Euro- 
peans took  place  throughout  Algeria.  In 
return  the  French  generals  extended  their  con- 

[  189  ] 


ALGIERS 

quests  on  every  side."  Abd-el-Kader  lost 
point  after  point.  Towns  on  which  lie  had 
depended  were  destroyed,  until  he  was  hunted 
through  the  country  and,  his  camp  being 
finally  taken,  was  driven  to  Morocco  in  1843. 
His  attacks  from  there  lu'ought  the  Sultan 
into  trouble  with  the  French,  so  that  Abd-el- 
Kader  lost  his  refuge.  "He  did  not  on  this 
account  relinquish  his  endeavors  to  harass 
the  invaders  of  his  native  country,"  until, 
deserted  by  his  adherents,  "he  was  driven 
from  mountain  to  mountain,  showing  to  the 
last  an  indomitable  courage.  Surrounded  on 
every  side  by  enemies,  and  with  numbers 
reduced  to  his  mere  personal  following,  he 
gave  himself  up  on  December  21,  1847." 

Thus  ended  one  heroic  struggle;  but  the 
efforts  of  the  natives  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of 
the  French  government  did  not  cease.  The 
disturbances  in  France  in  1848  encouraged 
them  to  new  attempts,  which  were  put  down 
by  "timely  severities."  Kabylia,  never  sub- 
ject, even  to  the  Turks,  held  out  the  longest. 
Unspeakable  cruelty,  as  well  as  great  devo- 
tion, marked  the  French  expeditions  against 
it.  Has  it  not  been  truly  said  that  war  with 
a  less  civilized  people  must  degenerate  to  the 
less  civilized  plane  and  lower.? 
[190] 


CHANCE    AND    CHANGE 

The  last  great  leader  of  an  insurrection  was 
not,  like  the  rest,  a  holy  man,  but  one  of  the 
Bach-Aghas,  El-Mokrani.  Our  frontispiece 
is  a  photograph  of  one  of  his  descendants,  who 
is  now  a  merchant,  but  who  is  still  distin- 
guished by  an  invitation  to  the  Governor's 
ball.  Mokrani  had  been  feted  by  the  French 
generals,  was  responsible  to  the  Government, 
and  had  its  confidence,  to  all  of  which  he  was 
keenly  sensitive.  At  the  time  of  the  Franco- 
Prussian  War  he  had  given  his  word  to  Acting 
Governor-General  Durrieu,  that  he  would  be 
faithful  to  France  so  long  as  she  should  be  at 
war.  With  Oriental  honor,  he  waited  until 
the  trouble  between  France  and  Germany 
was  over,  during  which,  if  he  had  struck,  his 
blow  might  have  been  effective,  for  the  French 
soldiers — even  most  of  the  seasoned  officers 
of  the  Bureaux  Arabes — had  been  recalled 
from  Algeria;  waited  then  until  he  had 
resigned  his  position,  returned  his  Cross  of 
the  Legion  of  Honor,  sent  a  declaration  of 
war  and  given  two  days  of  grace — before  he 
led  his  troops  to  face  the  returned  French 
army. 

But  the  Arabs,  though  fighting  with  an 
intense  individual  ferocity  and  with  the  reck- 
less abandon  of  a  faith  which  holds  death  in 

[  191  ] 


ALGIERS 

a  holy  war  to  be  desired  above  all  else,  are  by 
nature  incapable  of  Western  discipline.  The 
fire  of  their  lives  is  naught  against  the  fire  of 
unflinching,  unimpassioned  iron  cannon. 
When  Mokrani  saw  that  his  cause  was  hope- 
less, dismounting  from  his  horse,  he  walked 
in  front  of  his  men  and  met  death,  falling  on 
his  face  before  his  conquerors. 

Kabylia  of  the  Djurdjura  played  a  strong 
part  in  this  last  important  insurrection.  Her 
Berber  people,  the  prehistoric,  earliest  known 
inhabitants  of  Algeria,  from  their  mountain 
villages  had  been  the  watchers  of  all  history, 
had  seen  the  epochs  pass  beneath  them,  had 
beheld  every  wave  of  invasion  break  at  their 
feet;  while,  though  receiving  strangers  into 
their  refuge,  they  had  never  bowed  the  head, 
never  once  lowered  that  standard  of  inde- 
pendence, which  they  held  so  far  aloft  amid 
the  snows. 

It  might  be  said  that  independence  is  to 
this  Hamitic  people  what  faith  is  to  the 
Semitic  race — the  first  essential.  All  their 
institutions  reveal  this.  When  there  is  dan- 
ger or  invasion,  a  number  of  their  young  men 
form  a  society  called  Imessebelen,  to  give 
their  lives  to  protect  the  freedom  of  their 
land.  Before  they  go,  the  prayers  for  the 
[192] 


CHANCE  AND  CHANGE 

dead  are  read  over  them.  They  cannot 
return  unless  victorious.  Those  who  are 
killed  are  buried  in  a  field  apart,  which 
becomes  sanctified  by  their  presence  as  a 
place  of  prayer  for  all  time,  a  spot  peculiarly 
sacred.  But  if  one  of  them  escapes  with- 
out honor,  he  and  all  his  family  are  forever 
outcasts. 

The  Kabyle  institutes  had  been  demo- 
cratic from  earliest  days.  Each  village  pos- 
sessed entire  freedom  of  action.  "In  the 
village  the  power  lay  in  the  hands  of  all;  the 
assembly  met  once  a  week,  and  was  com- 
posed of  all  men  capable  of  bearing  arms. 
It  deliberated  under  the  presidency  of  an 
Amin,  elected  every  year  by  itself;  it  took 
cognizance  of  all  questions,  was  sovereign 
judge,  and  enforced  its  own  decisions" — a 
democracy  having  its  only  counterpart  at 
present  in  the  fundamental  Russian  commune, 
with  the  difference  that  the  Kabyle  democracy 
did  not  exist  under  a  bureaucracy. 

When  in  1857  after  a  terrific  struggle, 
Kabylia  at  last  bowed  her  head  to  the  yoke, 
France  promised  to  respect  her  institutions. 
But  after  the  insurrection  of  1871  the  French 
felt  themselves  released  from  the  promise. 
They  broke  the  ancient  organization,  ap- 
[  193  ] 


ALGIERS 

pointed  the  Amins  instead  of  allowing  them 
to  be  elected  by  the  people;  and,  moreover, 
instituted  French  tribunals,  not  only  between 
Europeans  and  natives,  but  between  the 
natives  themselves. 

*'This,"  remarks  a  fair-minded  but  pre- 
sumably imperialistic  Englishman,  "greatly 
restricts  the  liberty  which  the  Kabyles  have 
hitherto  enjoyed  and  lately  so  much  abused 
(by  insurrection),  but  it  will  greatly  prepare 
the  way  for  opening  out  their  magnificent 
country  to  European  colonization." 

Poor  Kabyles!  Is  it  against  a  similar  fate 
that  their  brethren  in  Morocco  are  still 
struggling  ? 

After  each  insurrection  France  has  acquired 
more  territory  and  a  firmer  reign. 

With  an  abstract  justice  she  administers 
the  law;  and  with  absolute  equality,  educates 
Hebrew,  French  and  Moorish  boys  together. 
Her  own  soldiers  fraternize  with  Negro  con- 
scripts. The  natural  heads  of  tribes  are  the 
local  rulers;  and  Algeria  has  now  her  own 
French  Governor- General.  In  him  is  cen- 
tered the  management  of  the  two  main  depart- 
ments of  the  government:  the  civil  and  the 
military. 

That  part  of  each  of  the  three  provinces — 
[194] 


CHANCE  AND  CHANGE 

Oran,  Algiers  and  Constantine — which  is 
under  civil  authority,  is  governed  by  a  pre- 
fect, who,  however,  is  under  the  control  of 
the  Governor- General.  Each  of  these  three 
divisions  sends  a  senator  and  a  representative 
to  the  National  Assembly. 

A  council  composed  of  the  chief  civil  and 
military  authorities  of  Algeria  advise  the 
Governor- General.  Each  province  also  has 
its  general  council,  from  which  all  Europeans 
except  the  French  have  been  excluded.  That 
portion  of  the  country  where  there  is  no 
European  population  is  under  military  rule. 
"The  purely  native  portion  of  the  colony  can 
only  be  governed  by  military  authority." 

There  is  therefore  also  a  general  for  each 
of  the  three  provinces.  He  administers  that 
portion  which  is  under  military  law;  below 
him  generals  of  brigade  command  sub-divi- 
sions; and  under  each  general  of  brigade, 
commandants  superieurs  have  absolute  con- 
trol over  circles. 

Parallel  with  this  organization  and  corre- 
sponding to  it  point  for  point,  is  another,  but 
slightly  comprehended  by  outsiders,  though 
well  known  by  name:  the  Bureaux  Arabes, 
composed  of  officers  long  trained  in  Algeria, 
who  interpret  between  the  commandants  and 
[195] 


ALGIERS 

the  natives.  The  Governor-General  has  his 
Bureau  PoHtique  for  the  whole  colony;  the 
general  of  each  province  has  a  Direction 
Provinciale  for  the  province,  while  any  native 
affairs  to  be  referred  he  submits  to  the  Bureau 
Politique;  the  general  of  brigade  has  his 
Bureau  Territorial;  and  the  commandant  su- 
perieur  has  his  Bureau  Arab  of  the  circle.  This 
last,  under  the  commandant,  actually  comes 
in  contact  with  the  natives:  "controls  the 
Arab  chiefs  in  the  exercise  of  their  functions," 
judges,  taxes,  collects  revenue,  keeps  a  keen 
eye  upon  the  politics  of  the  district;  schools 
the  Arabs,  advises  the  commandant,  keeps 
the  peace,  and  crushes  the  first  signs  of 
revolt. 

When  the  army  is  on  the  march  a  Bureau 
Arab  goes  with  it  and  commands  the  native 
levies. 

A  splendidly  organized  system:  all  civil 
and  military  departments  and  Bureaux  Arabes 
centering  in  the  Governor- General  and  com- 
ing down  from  him — nay,  more — the  motive 
of  government  comes  from  Paris. 

An  occasional  flash  in  the  eyes  of  the  sub- 
jects, an  occasional  casting  aside  of  the  cloak 
of  reserve,  is  all  that  reveals  how,  underneath 
their  impassive  calm  politeness,  the  people 
[  196  ] 


CHANCE  AND  CHANGE 

wear  a  triple  chain  of  feeling:  the  inevitable 
feeling  of  conquered  against  conqueror,  the 
race  antipathy,  the  religious  antagonism. 

We  remember  Notre  Dame  d'Afrique  with 
its  inscription,  "Pray  for  us  and  for  the 
Mussulmans."  But  Archbishop  Lavigerie  is 
no  more;  and  the  spirit  seems  gone  from 
many  of  the  forms  which  he  inaugurated. 
Moreover,  into  Algeria  from  France,  as  we 
have  seen,  has  surged  the  internal  strife  of 
the  French  government  with  its  own  French 
church. 

With  regard  to  the  Hebrews,  we  have  heard 
how  the  pedestal  of  that  statue  in  the  Place 
du  Gouvernement  was  pasted  over  this  winter 
with  red  posters  in  French,  announcing  that 

it  was  now  six  years  since  M ,  an  honest 

man  and  a  good  citizen,  had  been  assassinated 
by  the  Jews,  that  the  government  had  done 
nothing  and  it  was  time  for  the  people  to  rise 
up  for  revenge.  Yet  the  Jews  are  a  most 
peaceable  people.  These  placards  were  al- 
lowed to  remain  for  days.  At  times  the 
hostile  feeling  has  amounted  almost  to  per- 
secution. "L'Anti  Juif"  is  a  paper  still 
cried  daily  and  lustily  on  the  streets,  while 
the  Middle  Ages  startle  us  in  "A  bas  les 
Juifs!"  on  country  gates. 
[197] 


ALGIERS 

This  is  race  antipathy  rather  than  relig- 
ious antagonism.  In  either  case,  the  French 
government  would  not  if  it  could  to-day,  and 
could  not  in  this  age  of  liberty,  attempt  to 
change  the  religion  of  its  subjects;  indeed,  it 
endeavored  in  the  beginning  to  restrain  the 
missionaries  from  interference.  This  desire 
on  the  part  of  the  French  government  not  to 
allow  the  religion  of  the  people  to  be  touched 
was  prompted  by  diplomatic  justice;  the 
attacks  of  the  French  missionaries  upon  the 
people's  creed  were  prompted  by  love — surely 
good  motives  both.  The  missionaries'  oppor- 
tunity came  and  was  worked  out  in  a  some- 
what idyllic  way. 

Thirty  years  ago  there  was  a  famine. 
Archbishop  Lavigerie  rescued  Arab  children 
who  were  starving,  and  built  orphanages  for 
them.  This  gaining  possession  of  the  chil- 
dren was  the  first  step,  the  first  successful 
French  opposition  to  the  policy  of  the  French 
government.  To-day  boys  in  one  home,  near 
Maison  Carree,  under  the  care  of  priests ;  and 
girls  in  another,  watched  over  by  sisters,  are 
taught  the  methods  of  that  once  sacred  art 
of  agriculture.  As  they  grow  up  the  girls 
are  married  to  the  boys,  according  to  the 
French  principle. 

[198] 


CHANCE  AND  CHANGE 

The  result  is  two  prosperous  little  Chris- 
tian villages. 

Next  to  the  Catholic  work  with  the  chil- 
dren, we  heard  of  the  Protestant  work  with 
women.  The  primitive  position  of  woman  is 
naturally  the  darkest  shadow  in  the  East  to 
Western  and  Christian  eyes.  Perhaps  Orien- 
tal women  respond  more  readily  to  mission- 
ary efforts  than  do  the  men,  because  the 
women's  share  in  the  forms  and  blessings  of 
the  Mohammedan  religion  is  less,  and  their 
position  through  this  religion  is  inferior.  The 
missionary  work  is  done  by  women,  who 
because  of  their  sex  have  access  to  Arab 
homes.  The  husbands  and  fathers  appear 
not  much  concerned,  for  the  value  of  women's 
souls  is  small.  But  a  radical  diflSculty  is 
soon  encountered.  When  a  native  woman  is 
converted,  and  lays  aside  any  of  her  customs, 
or  the  veil  which,  according  to  the  social  and 
religious  code  of  Mohammedanism,  should 
shield  her  from  men's  eyes,  no  Arab  man 
will  have  her  as  his  wife.  She  becomes  an 
outcast  from  her  own  people,  and  has  no 
probability  of  marriage  with  any  man  of  an 
alien  race.  In  this  land  there  is  no  place 
for  independent  women,  especially  of  the 
Semitic  blood;  the  lot  of  French  women 
[199] 


ALGIERS 

who  stand  alone  in  France  itself  is  hard 
enough. 

More  efforts  now  are  being  made  to  reach 
the  men. 

An  English  woman  missionary  who  worked 
for  twenty  years  among  the  Kabyles  of  the 
Constantine  district  admitted  that  few  efforts 
were  or  could  be  made  to  better  the  material 
condition  of  the  women.  Among  other  at- 
tempts she  had  tried  to  teach  the  girls  sewing. 
Curiously  enough,  it  is  the  men  who  are  the 
sewers  in  Algeria,  and  who  make  their  own 
garments.  Hoping  to  give  the  women  an 
added  power  and  thus  a  greater  value, 
and  to  persuade  the  fathers  to  allow  their 
daughters  to  attend  her  school,  the  good 
missionary  offered  to  teach  the  women  sew- 
ing; and,  as  an  inducement,  told  the  men 
how  much  time  they  would  be  saved.  This 
idea  seemed  to  please  the  men,  who  sent  in 
orders  so  generously  and  imperatively  that 
missionaries  and  women  were  obliged  to 
work  day  and  night  to  satisfy  demands.*  It 

*A11  this  appears  quite  different  from  the  well  organ- 
ized EngUsh  and  American  missionary  work  in  Egypt,  where, 
at  least  from  among  the  English,  men  are  sent  to  prepare  the 
way  for  the  coming  of  the  women  missionaries,  and  efforts 
are  directed  through  college  graduates  to  reach  the  highest  class 
of  native  men  and  to  awake  in  them  the  desire  for  a  better  educa- 
tion for  their  women.  Such  a  desire  alone  can  be  the  root  of 
any  permanent,  honest  betterment  for  women  or  for  men. 

[200] 


CHANCE  AND  CHANGE 

might  have  proved  only  an  extra  burden; 
but  mercifully  the  men  were  not  satisfied, 
and,  concluding  they  could  do  it  better  them- 
selves, returned  to  it. 

In  Algiers,  poverty  has  brought  an  evil 
worse  than  polygamy,  which  in  early  days 
served  the  necessary  purpose  of  quickly  popu- 
lating the  countries,  and  which  survives  in 
the  doctrines  of  El-Islam.  Indeed,  all  the 
laws  of  the  Mohammedans  proceed  from 
their  religion;  being  either  permitted  sur- 
vivals of  old  usages,  or  omissions  and  com- 
missions prescribed  by  Mohammed. 

Yet  that  the  Arabs  are  capable  of  true 
love,  Mr.  Lane  has  clearly  proved,  even 
against  Dr.  Burckhardt,  in  his  notes  to  the 
Arabian  Nights,  and  the  intense  Semitic 
nature  would  imply  it.  That  they  are  ca- 
pable of  friendship  we  saw  daily. 

How  much  influence  can  we  expect  Euro- 
peans to  have  upon  their  customs.?^ 

We  have  watched  Zaza  in  the  theater  of 
Algiers;  and  wondered,  as  we  looked  at  the 
stately,  impassive  figures  of  Moorish  grandees, 
what,  from  their  different  standpoint,  could 
be  their  impression  of  the  play.  Impossible 
incongruities!  When  the  West  shall  have 
developed  to  meet  and  practice  the  best  and 
[  201  ] 


ALGIERS 

simplest  teachings  which  have  come  from  the 
East,  and  which  we,  in  our  superior  morahty, 
profess  now  to  hold — then — the  West  may 
help  the  present  Orient.* 

Where  the  government  has  interfered  with 
regard  to  the  treatment  of  women  in  Algeria, 
the  interference  has  sometimes  been  provoca- 
tive of  curious  results,  as  the  following  story 
illustrates.  A  rich  Arab  of  the  interior  had 
a  wife  whom  he  adored.  Starting  on  a 
journey  he  bade  her  an  affectionate  farewell. 
Unexpectedly  he  returned,  seized  the  unfor- 
tunate woman  who  came  forward  to  greet  him, 
bound  her  and  taking  her  out,  beat  her  furi- 
ously in  the  presence  of  his  neighbors.  They 
cried   out    at   him,    inquiring   what   she   had 


*  We  once  asked  a  Christian  Syrian  in  Egypt:  "Do  not 
high-class  Mohammedans  go  to  Europe  to  study,  and  how 
is  it  possible  that  they  do  not  learn  the  high  regard  m  which  our 
women  are  held?" 

He  shook  his  head.  "Where  do  they  go?"  he  said.  "To 
Paris" — for  even  in  Egypt  French  influence  is  strong.  "How 
do  they  learn,"  he  continued,  "in  Paris,  that  your  unveiled 
women  are  good?" 

Elaborating  still  further,  he  declared  that  in  the  first  place 
the  preconceived  idea  of  Mohammedans  concerning  women  was 
the  primary  cause  of  their  not  learning  better;  since  good  homes 
in  France  or  England  could  not  be  opened  to  men  who  regarded 
women  in  such  a  light.  He  explained  that  for  his  own  family, 
whose  women  were  unveiled,  he  was  obliged  to  be  even  more 
particular  than  the  Khedive,  whose  wife  indeed  was  not  seen, 
or  than  Lord  Cromer,  whose  official  position  forced  him  to 
receive  objectionable  men  not  only  from  among  Mussulmans, 
but  from  Europeans;  while  he,  a  Syrian  Christian,  could  only 
receive  the  most  learned  of  the  Mussulmans  in  his  home. 


[202] 


CHANCE  AND  CHANGE 

done,  the  pearl  of  all  women!  When  his 
rage  had  been  somewhat  appeased,  he  took 
breath  to  explain  that  upon  entering  a  cer- 
tain town,  he  found  a  man  accused  by  his 
wife  of  beating  her,  and  that  the  judge  had 
pronounced  a  verdict  against  him.  He  him- 
self had  hastened  home  to  assure  himself  that 
he  was  master  in  his  own  house,  and  had  given 
his  wife  the  beating  as  a  revenge  upon  all 
women. 

In  our  judgment  of  these  people,  which 
can  never  be  quite  fair  from  our  opposite 
standard,  we  must  remember  that  the  Orien- 
tals feel  no  disgrace  in  corporal  punishment. 
The  French,  forgetting  the  ascetic  idea  of  the 
mortification  of  the  flesh — which  indeed  came 
from  the  East — possess  a  standard  of  the 
dignity  of  humanity  which  serves  to  exalt  the 
body.  Consequently  they  attempted  to  sub- 
stitute imprisonment  as  the  legal  punishment 
instead  of  flogging  for  certain  offences  of  the 
men.  They  found,  somewhat  to  their  dis- 
may, that  their  subjects  consider  the  body, 
as  they  consider  life  itself,  naught  in  compari- 
son with  the  spirit — which  attitude  explains 
many  things.  The  natives  regarded  the  con- 
finement as  infinitely  worse  than  the  whip- 
pings, and  they  besought  the  magistrates  to 
[208] 


ALGIERS 

rechange  the  punishment.  The  French,  see- 
ing the  futiUty  of  changing  the  Oriental  form 
while  the  Oriental  idea  remains,  have  wisely 
left  the  Mohammedans  of  Algiers  to  their 
own  mode,  and  all  cases  between  them  are 
decided  by  a  native  Cadi. 

Nevertheless  the  French  government  is 
above  all  widespread  and  far-reaching  to  the 
native;  and  upon  it  he  lays  all  blame  for  his 
misfortunes.  It  thus  does  him  one  good 
service  in  relieving  him  of  the  heaviest  burden 
Western  people  ever  bear — the  burden  of  self- 
reproach.  Not  that  he  would,  we  fear,  under 
any  circumstances  suffer  deeply  from  the 
thought  of  what  "might  have  been,"  for  he 
is  in  the  first  place  excused  from  it  by  his 
religion  of  fatalism. 

Our  English  general,  who  loves  to  practice 
his  Arabic  upon  the  natives,  became  in  this 
way  acquainted  with  a  poor  man  who  had  his 
dwelling  in  the  country.  The  acquaintance 
resulted  in  visits  to  the  kind-hearted  general 
at  all  hours  of  the  day,  and  presents  of  child- 
like nosegays  of  wild-flowers  or  a  dish  of 
couscous  cooked  by  the  native's  wife.  In 
return  many  a  small  gift  found  its  way  to  the 
man's  wallet,  and  the  affair  culminated  in  a 
tea-party  at  the  native's  for  us  all.  One 
[204] 


CHANCE    AND    CHANGE 

sunny,  beautiful  afternoon  the  Arab  guided 
our  small  party  over  the  hills  and  far  away 
to  a  ledge  on  a  rough  hillside.  Here  was  his 
farm — a  strip  of  ground  not  more  than  three 
feet  wide  beside  the  path  that  led  to  his  home 
in  a  corner  of  the  rocks.  It  possessed  the 
necessary  court;  for  the  corner  enclosed  two 
sides,  and  a  cave  made  a  nursery.  The  other 
two  sides  were  formed  by  the  women's  and 
men's  apartments:  each  a  small  low  build- 
ing, whitewashed  outside,  and  containing  one 
room,  which  opened  only  into  the  small  cen- 
tral space.  We  entered  by  a  narrow  passage 
around  the  end  of  our  hostess'  wing;  and  we 
women  were  welcomed  first  and  led  into  the 
women's  side,  ere  the  general  was  allowed  to 
enter  and  be  entertained  by  the  host  and  the 
host's  blind  brother  in  their  part  of  the  house. 
As  our  hostesses,  mother,  grandmother  and 
child,  spoke  no  European  language,  we  sat 
mute  on  the  cushions  of  the  beds,  endeavor- 
ing to  communicate  by  signs  and  smiles.  The 
mother  was  extremely  pretty,  and  wore  rags 
of  silk  on  her  hair.  She  and  the  wizened 
grandmother,  clothed  in  their  white  street 
costumes — probably  the  only  whole  garments 
they  possessed, — sat  frog-fashion  on  their 
feet  on  mats,  and  made  coffee  and  honey- 
[  205  ] 


ALGIERS 

cakes  over  a  brazier — of  which  eatables,  or 
rather  uneatables,  we  were  obliged  to  par- 
take. Our  host  appeared  in  the  door  occa- 
sionally to  be  sure  we  received  our  full 
share. 

The  point  of  the  story  is  this:  that  our 
host  declared  himself  a  man  of  high  birth 
whose  family  had  lost  all  through  the  French ; 
the  logical  sequence  of  which  to  his  mind 
was  that  the  French  government  owed  him 
a  living,  and  could  not  do  too  much 
for  him.  Did  it  not  support  in  Algeria 
a  great  body  of  its  own  oflScials  of  every 
rank?  He  besought  the  Enghsh  general, 
who  because  of  his  nationality  and  his 
rank  must  be  all-powerful,  to  pay  his  taxes, 
give  him  a  donkey,  and  intercede  for 
him. 

It  is  only  too  true  that  the  departure  of  the 
rich  Arabs  from  the  city,  the  competition 
with  Europeans,  and  the  heavy  taxes  leave 
the  poor  natives  very  poor. 

Even  for  the  French  colonist  much  may 
still  be   done.*     France   invades   her  colony 

*  Since  the  above  was  written  this  has  come  to  me:  "Al- 
OIER8  Wants  Low  Fares.  Present  rates  far  too  high,  de- 
clares Governor  Jonnart.  Special  Cable  to  The  Inquirer,  Copy- 
right, 1904,  by  the  New  York  Herald  Company.  Paris,  Dec. 
4. — M.  Jonnart,  Governor  of  Algiers,  has  issued  a  formidable 
indictment   against   the  subventioned   passenger  service   from 

[206] 


CHANCE  AND  CHANGE 

with  an  army  of  officials  who  cross  the  Medi- 
terranean at  reduced  rates.  The  passengers 
who  pay  must  pay  for  these  also;  so  that  the 
fare  on  the  French  line  from  Marseilles  to 
Algiers  is  out  of  all  proportion  to  steamship 
fares  elsewhere.  The  French  liners  are  the 
only  ones  allowed  to  dock  without  heavy 
dues,  which  is  a  distinct  misfortune  for 
travelers.  Foreign  enterprise  is  discouraged. 
But  the  better  class  from  France  and  her 
successful  people,  unlike  those  of  other  na- 
tions, are  unwilling  to  leave  home.  Commerce 
with  other  countries  is  lessened  that  the 
exports  may  go  to  France  and  benefit  her. 
The  vines  of  Algeria  have  taken  to  some  ex- 
tent the  place  of  the  ruined  vines  of  France. 
The  French  government  protects  them  from 
disease  by  the  strictest  laws,  forbidding  the 
importation  of  all  plants,  so  that  not  even  a 
humble  potato  may  be  brought  into  the  land. 
But  with  the  absence  of  winter,  the  moisture 
in  the  air  and  the  rich  soil,  the  production  of 
wine,  the  chief  export,  is  too  great  to  pay. 

Europe  to  Algiers,  the  chief  abuse  being  the  large  proportion  of 

f)assengers  who  obtain  the  benefit  of  official  rates  at  a  quarter 
ess  than  the  ordinary  charge.  The  companies  make  it  up  from 
the  other  passengers,  charging  them  $25  for  a  twenty-four-hour 
trip  and  two  bad  boarding  house  meals. 

"He  says  Algiers  will  never  attain  the  position  to  which  it  is 
entitled  as  a  winter  resort  till  cheaper  and  more  rapid  and  com- 
fortable transportation  is  established." 

[  207  ] 


ALGIERS 

In  spite  of  the  marvelous  vegetation,  in  spite 
of  undeveloped  mineral  wealth,  taxes  and 
the  French  protective  policy  prevent  full 
prosperity. 

And  yet — all  these  conditions  help  to  pre- 
serve the  Oriental  character  of  Algiers,  which 
France  herself  has  done  so  much  to  destroy. 


[208] 


FOLLOWING  THE  STAR 


FOLLOWING  THE  STAR 

GRAVE  questions  these  imperial  ones 
in  our  age  of  liberty! — such  ques- 
tions as  that  of  a  people  paying 
taxes  against  its  will  toward  the  support  of 
an  army  to  keep  it  up  to  a  standard  not  its 
own.  Here  in  Algeria  France  has  her  prob- 
lem; but  it  is  a  problem  similar  to  that  of 
other  nations,  a  part  of  one  great  question  in 
the  world's  development.  Not  till  we  stand 
outside  of  Christendom  in  one  of  its  colonies, 
do  we  realize  for  ourselves  how  small  a  pro- 
portion of  time  and  space  our  civilization 
occupies.  Its  margin  is  greater  than  itself. 
Here  one  makes  comparison  of  the  Orient 
with  the  Occident,  of  the  subject  nations  with 
the  present  "Powers."  Further,  in  Egypt, 
Tunis  and  Algiers  one  may  compare  the 
Oriental  peoples:  how  much  is  due  to  differ- 
ences of  stock,  how  much  to  degrees  and 
differences  of  controlling  influences.^  As  we 
study,  we  realize  how  similarities  go  back 
farther  than  differences;  till  we  see  in  the 
[211] 


ALGIERS 

East  the  birth  of  the  Western  nations,  the 
origin  of  customs — notably  the  division  of 
time — common  to  both  Oriental  and  Occi- 
dental civilizations.  Before  us  rises  the  one 
great  question  of  the  relation  of  the  East  and 
the  West. 

In  considering  this  question  in  Algeria  the 
distinction  between  the  Moors  and  their 
former  Turkish  masters  of  Tartar  blood 
must  not  be  overlooked,  and  also  the  fact 
that  the  piracies  carried  on  against  the  Chris- 
tians were  "Holy  Wars.'*  Is  not  now  the 
destruction  of  the  mosques  an  insult  hardly 
to  be  forgiven  while  the  faith  of  the  people 
lasts?  And  where  their  religious  fervor  has 
been  weakened  by  forced  change  of  practices, 
what  have  they  gained  in  return  ? 

It  is  unfortunate  for  Western  people  that 
most  of  their  contact  with  Orientals  is  in 
petty  bargaining — a  most  superficial  contact 
and  often  wholly  without  understanding  on 
the  part  of  the  Europeans,  who  therefore 
crudely  condemn,  or  laugh  at,  what  they  call 
Arab  dishonesty.  Yet  to  the  Arabs,  getting 
bargains  on  their  side  is  legitimate  business. 
Western  people  do  not  mind  paying  less  than 
a  thing  is  worth;  why  should  the  Orientals 
be  condemned  for  asking  more  ?  It  is  just  a 
[212] 


FOLLOWING    THE    STAR 

little  matter  of  method.  But  bargaining  is 
more  enjoyable  to  the  natives  when  it  is  a 
game  which  both  sides  understand. 

Those  who  have  experienced  Oriental  cour- 
tesy, so  genuine  and  so  much  beyond  our 
own;*  and  those  who  remember  the  honor 
of  Mokrani,  an  honor  above  all  practical 
considerations,  feel  the  Oriental  and  espe- 
cially the  Arab  life  at  its  best.  Its  religion 
may  not  be  directly  interfered  with  by  the 
French  government;  but  with  its  mosques 
destroyed,  its  faith  weakened,  overpowered 
by  a  civilization  into  which  it  cannot  enter 
and  with  which  it  cannot  compete,  its  vital 
quality,  that  for  which  it  exists  in  the  world, 
is  crushed;  and  only  degradation  is  apparent, 
which  in  its  turn  calls  forth  the  contempt  of 
the  strong  conquerors. 

The  West  is  reason ;  the  East  is  faith.  The 
East  needs  the  practicality  and  strength  of 
the  West;  but  does  not  the  West  need,  per- 
haps even  more,  the  dreams,  the  revelations 
which  belong  to  the  East?  These  revelations 
have  come  only  to  simple,  childlike  people, 
and,  once  lost  in  the  intricacies  of  our  civiliza- 
tion, are  only  to  be  re- attained  through  long 
suffering,   when  they  shall   at  last  be  inter- 

*  See  Kelly's  "  Egypt  Painted  and  Described  " 

[  213  ] 


ALGIERS 

preted  and  understood.  The  West  must  al- 
ways need  the  ideality,  the  touch  of  a  fire  in 
its  faith,  which  comes  from  the  East.  But 
there  must  be  a  common  meeting  ground  of 
desire  for  good — not  one  side  in  authority 
over  the  other.  This  seems  misunderstood 
by  many,   misunderstood  by  ruling  nations. 

France  is  perhaps,  of  all  the  countries  of 
our  civilization,  the  one  least  sympathetic 
toward  the  intense  and  extreme  Semitic 
nature,  which  in  the  Hebrews  has  been  called, 
"the  most  worldly  and  the  most  unworldly 
in  the  world." 

In  this  contact  of  the  West  and  the  East, 
with  the  West  not  only  in  control,  but  attempt- 
ing from  a  far-off  center  with  Western  ideas 
of  justice  to  make  over  the  land  from  East 
to  West,  a  situation  is  developed  of  greater 
difficulty  than  the  situation  in  India  has  ever 
presented;  for  not  only  do  the  English  re- 
spect the  temples,  but  are  not  the  Aryan 
Hindoos  nearer  in  race  than  the  Semitic 
Arabs  are.?  Yet  every  Aryan  country  con- 
tains a  portion,  distinct  it  is  true,  of  the 
Semitic  race:  that  Eastern  people  which  for 
almost  two  thousand  years  has  known  no 
home  of  its  own,  but,  scattered  through  all 
the  countries  of  the  earth,  has  given  its 
[214] 


FOLLOWING    THE    STAR 

patriotism  and  life  to  the  lands  which  harbor 
it.  From  this  element  have  sprung  many  of 
the  achievements  of  the  West.  More  than 
all,  the  very  religion  of  the  Aryan  nations, 
their  deepest  pulse,  their  heart,  their  bond 
of  union,  the  mainspring  of  their  develop- 
ment, has  come  from  the  same  source.  For 
in  the  fervor  of  its  own  youth  the  Aryan  race 
adopted  a  new  faith  which  had  risen  among 
these  people,  and  adorned  it  with  the  bril- 
liant images,  the  splendor  which  belongs  to 
youth.  But  we,  in  the  intellectual  maturity 
of  the  Present,  seem  like  to  lose  even  that 
fervor  which  possessed  our  race  when — 
though  it  did  not  indeed  give  birth  to  a  religion 
— it  received  to  itself  one  which  had  risen 
among  another  people.  Our  civilization,  in 
its  full-grown  vigor  and  industry,  finds  diffi- 
cult of  understanding  the  unpractical  dream- 
ers of  the  East;  finds  yet  more  difficult  the 
realization  of  the  value  of  the  dreams,  and  that 
from  the  Semitic  race  have  sprung  three  of 
the  greatest  religions  of  the  world,  while 
Hebrews  of  the  West  are  still  advancing  the 
world  in  moral  teaching.  Most  difficult  of 
all  is  the  realization  that  one  of  those  three 
religions  is  our  own  Christianity.  For  cen- 
turies Western  people  have  thought  they 
[215] 


ALGIERS 

revered  that  simple  Nazarene ;  have  worshiped 
him  and  called  him  Elder  Brother;  and  dur- 
ing most  of  this  time  they  have  persecuted 
his  race,  considering  that  it  was  their  mission 
to  do  so  because  his  own  had  not  received 
him — unconscious  perhaps  for  the  most  part 
that  what  they  felt  was  the  prejudice  of  race. 
The  Hebrews  in  the  West  have  become  so 
much  a  part  of  the  Western  civilization,  that 
we,  when  we  say  that  Jesus  was  a  Jew,  have 
unconsciously  taken  comfort  in  the  sense  of 
a  far-off  age  and  customs  which  somehow 
allow  us  to  bring  him  nearer.  It  is  only 
when  we  see  a  Semitic  people  in  their  own 
surroundings  and  their  patriarchal  customs, 
that  the  gulf  between  him  and  us  is  revealed. 
How  many  Aryan  Christians  find  it  possible 
to  look  upon  a  group  of  these  Arabs  walking 
in  the  fields  or  upon  one  of  the  despised 
Oriental  Hebrews  and  to  say,  "  Our  Jesus  was 
as  one  of  these"?  Have  they  realized  that 
the  manhood  by  which  they  claim  him  is  not 
as  their  manhood?  He  sprang,  as  did  a  long 
line  before  him,  from  a  people  whose  life  was 
different  from  ours;  who  were  neither  war- 
riors nor  builders,  but  whose  psychic  life 
often  broke  into  pure  flame  and  gave  birth  to 
a  new  prophet.  Thus  their  history  and  develop- 
[216] 


FOLLOWING   THE    STAR 

ment  was  written  in  fire  from  within — such 
a  story  as  no  other  nation  could  write  or  ever 
can,  yet  typical  of  the  development  of  all 
mankind  from  its  earliest  ideas.  No  doubt 
the  court  of  Solomon  was  similar  to  that  of 
other  nations  about  him  at  their  height — but 
they  left  no  such  record  of  theirs.  And  later, 
this  lowly  figure  Jesus  and  his  humble  dis- 
ciples went  about  the  country — as  we  see  the 
Arabs  to-day — talking  of  their  scriptures  and 
drawing  lessons  from  the  country  happenings, 
so  great  in  their  simplicity  that  the  teaching 
was  higher  and  deeper  and  purer  than  any 
the  world  has  known,  even  from  Greece  or 
Rome — Rome,  who  was  then  in  the  height 
of  her  golden  age,  and  scarcely  heard  of  the 
poor  teacher  except  as  another  who  brought 
crowds  together  and  might  stir  revolt.  But 
he  was  humbler  and  more  meek  than  any 
others;  and  it  was  only  after  his  ignominious 
death  that  one  Paul,  a  scholar  from  the  higher 
class  of  the  Hebrews,  gave  his  teaching  to  the 
world,  and  laid  down  the  early  dogmas. 
Out  of  this  simple  Semitic  life  the  genius  of 
our  Aryan  race  developed  a  great  ideal  full 
of  color;  and  upon  that  Hebrew  book  which 
we  call  the  Word  of  God,  has  built  a  most 
wonderful  and  elaborate  organization.  But 
[217] 


ALGIERS 

when  we  see  a  Semitic  people  in  their  early 
mode  of  life,  the  Bible  acquires  a  new  mean- 
ing for  us;  its  chief  figure  is  no  longer  the 
battle  god  of  the  crusades — alas,  of  our 
own  times! — its  story  is  no  longer  the  vague 
poetic  ideal  full  of  medieval  color  like  our 
dreams  of  Heaven,  but  becomes  very  real  and 
very  white  and  at  the  same  time  infinitely 
farther  from  us;  for  the  new  reality  makes 
its  ideals  more  diflBcult  of  attainment.  Not 
until  we  have  overcome  with  that  love  which 
he  taught  shall  we  truly  have  accepted  Jesus, 
the  King  of  the  Jews;  whose  "simple  figure 
was  the  grandest  which  ever  crossed  the  page 
of  history";  who  spoke  from  out  the  East  the 
highest  message  ever  given  to  the  world ;  who 
was  the  divinest  spirit  in  the  Orient. 

Yes,  the  West  needs  the  East  for  a  remem- 
brance; and  having  cast  aside  all  that  is 
false,  must  move  forward — not  backward — 
toward  those  simple  teachings,  even  applying 
them  to  its  dealings  with  the  subject,  and 
sometimes  decadent.  Orient. 


[218] 


AWAY 


AWAY 

WE  are  far  from  Algiers  to-day,  with 
the  blank  of  the  waters  about  us. 
We  sailed  away  in  the  evening, 
while  the  sky  was  a  blaze  of  glorious  color, 
against  which  stood  the  dome  of  Notre  Dame 
d'Afrique  on  the  side  of  the  hill,  and  the 
graceful  sails  of  the  fishing-boats  out  in 
the  bay.  A  dissolving  pearl  in  the  wine  of  the 
evening  gold,  a  dream  city  to  the  last,  Algiers 
faded  into  mist  and  moonlight  with  a  halo 
from  the  sunset  still  behind  her. 

Yet  Memory  comes  in  her  semblance, 
wearing  as  a  veil  her  fragrant  atmosphere. 
Still  do  we  know  in  dreams  the  dream-gar- 
dens and  the  palaces,  and  tell  over  the  story 
of  love  which  haunts  the  deserted  courts  and 
fountains,  where  the  papyrus  grows. 

Other  scenes  have  made  the  memory 
clearer. 

Along  the  historic  shores  of  North  Africa 
we  passed,  where  Carthaginians  and  Romans 
sailed  two  thousand  years  before  the  Atlantic 
[  221  ] 


ALGIERS 

was  crossed.  Just  beyond  our  vision  lay 
Bona,  city  of  St.  Augustine  and  Boniface. 
And  the  Mediterranean  was  classically  calm. 

It  had  seemed  to  us  the  fitting  finish  to  our 
stay  in  the  Oriental  city  of  Algiers,  that  we 
should  set  sail  in  a  merchant  vessel  called 
the  Bagdad,  bound  for  Tunis  and  for  Venice, 
that  gateway  of  the  East  to  the  West.  There 
is  always  something  romantic  connected  with 
the  idea  of  merchandise  in  the  Orient.  It 
signifies  treasures  from  a  far  country  and 
speaks  of  adventure,  where  the  noblest  do 
not  hesitate  to  engage  in  trade. 

By  the  second  dawn  we  were  before  Tunis, 
the  largest  and  most  prosperous  town  on  all 
the  Barbary  coast.  We  had  skirted  the  side 
of  the  bay,  so  wide  one  can  scarcely  see  the 
opposite  mountains,  passed  the  height  of 
Carthage  and  the  town  of  Goletta,  erected 
from  that  city's  ruins.  Here  we  entered  the 
long  canal,  built  by  the  French  straight 
through  a  salt  lake  to  Tunis.  Vessels  which 
formerly  discharged  their  cargoes  at  Goletta 
are  now  enabled  to  go  direct  to  the  capital. 
A  land-locked  harbor  under  process  of  con- 
struction at  Bizerta  will  give  the  French  one 
of  the  most  important  strategic  points  in  the 
Mediterranean . 

[222] 


AWAY 

It  was  a  curious  approach  to  Tunis — very 
slow,  that  we  might  not  stir  up  the  water, 
which  followed  us  along  the  sides.  We  were 
heralded  by  a  flock  of  sailing  boats  which 
flitted  down  before  us  and  tried  our  captain's 
nerves. 

The  city  itself,  with  its  many  minarets,  lay 
white  in  the  morning  sunlight.  It  is  not 
nearly  so  beautiful  as  Algiers,  for  it  is  flat 
upon  the  sand,  and  lacks  the  stately  arches 
of  the  arcades  and  of  the  ramparts,  which 
conceal  the  steep  cliffs  at  the  foot  of  the  latter 
city.  Behind  the  open  space  about  the  docks 
lies  the  new  French  portion,  with  a  wide 
Boulevard  through  the  center  leading  to  one 
of  the  gates  of  the  Arab  town,  the  Porte  de 
France.  The  Boulevard  is  lined  with  trees 
and  edged  with  fine  shops,  hotels,  cafes,  and 
a  cathedral.  The  day  was  Sunday,  and  the 
sidewalks  before  the  cafes  were  filled,  while 
a  gay  throng  passed  through  the  streets. 

We  took  a  short  drive  through  the  Arab 
quarter — or  three-quarters — where  the  houses 
are  low  and  the  streets  are  wider  than  in 
Algiers,  with  small  open  shops  along  each 
side.  They  are  screened  with  fancy,  bright- 
colored  woodwork;  and  the  merchant  sits  in 
the  opening  while  the  customers  come  on 
[  223  ] 


ALGIERS 

donkeys  as  in  the  "Anihian  Niglits,"  and  sit 
outside  to  bargain,  on  little  benches  at  right 
angles  with  the  shop  door.  We  came  upon  a 
group  of  Aissaoui,  siuike-charniers,  in  a  circle 
of  s[)ectators  which  broke  to  give  us  a  view. 
15ut  tlie  cobra  ni.Kic  for  the  carriage  and  we 
departed  hastily. 

These  Aissaoui  arc,  among  Mohammedans, 
what  the  Jesuits  arc  among  ("atholics;  and 
curiously  enough,  their  name  has  the  same 
derivation,  **Aissa"  being  the  Arabic  for 
"Jesus" — but  the  person  meant  by  the  Mo- 
hammedans is  a  ditferent  one,  with  no  claim 
to  distinction,  exc(*pt  as  the  foimdcr  of  the 
sect.  They  arc  like  a  trilie,  I  he  "Children  of 
Aissa,"  though  drawn  from  manv  tribes.  We 
found  them  in  Algiers,  and  l)e  .Vmicis  s[)eaks 
of  their  presence  in  Morocco.  They  are  der- 
vishes, who  at  times  {)ursue  regular  callings 
or  trades,  but  practice  in  tlie  intervals  all 
sorts  of  self-tortunvs  with  apparent  impunity. 

By  a  gate  toward  the  sea  we  left  the  town 
and  caught  a  glimpse  of  villas,  stately  houses 
built  on  the  sand.  But  we  were  anxious 
first  to  see  Carthage,  that  city  of  old.  The 
hot,  brilliant  sunshine  of  midday  lay  over  its 
modern  little  railway  station  when  we  reached 
it;  and  we  drove  over  the  hills  to  the  ruins. 
[224] 


AWAY 

There  we  stood  upon  the  site  of  Carthage, 
the  grave  of  a  race  which  but  for  Rome  might 
have  peopled  the  earth,  and  made  its  civiliza- 
tion Semitic.  Well  did  the  Romans  keep 
their  threat  of  destruction,  plowing  over 
the  rival  city.  Roman  mosaic  rests  upon 
Punic  ruins;  but  now  Rome  as  well  is  swept 
away;  and  over  her  dust  covered  floors, 
wearing  bright  colors — flowers  out  of  the  earth 
and  still  earthy — float  graceful  sprites  of 
Bedouin  girls  of  the  Semitic  race.  The  fields 
in  the  country  are  white  for  the  harvest,  but 
all  over  the  city  the  ground  is  red  with  the 
flowers  of  sleep.  The  Roman  cisterns  have 
become  wells  of  forgetf ulness ;  except  for  one 
which  the  French  have  rebuilt,  where  the 
water  reflects  the  arches  in  long  vistas  of  con- 
stant memory.  We  descended  into  a  Roman 
amphitheater,  now  an  unsightly  opening  in 
the  ground,  where  the  Saints  Perpetue  and 
Felicite  were  given  to  the  lions.  To-day  in 
the  midst  of  the  arena  rises  the  cross,  serenely 
white. 

There  was  also  a  visit  to  the  Punic  ceme- 
tery, where  the  very  bones  of  Carthaginians 
have  been  found.  Chief  of  the  relics  dis- 
covered by  those  who  are  delving  in  the  now 
dark  past  to  bring  Carthage  to  the  light  are 
[  225  ] 


ALGIERS 

the  lamps  of  the  people — their  flame  so  lonp; 
gone  out:  military  larnjis,  funeral  himps  witli 
a  coin  in  each  for  the  passage  across  the  Styx, 
Christian  lamps  for  devotions  to  the  \'irgin. 

Bronze  is  the  only  metal  found  here.  There 
are  eoins  of  tlic  Nandal  j)cri<)d;  and  an 
Etruscan  inscri|)tion,  the  only  one  known  in 
Africa.  There  arc  tcar-hottlcs  lonpj  drv;  and 
even  petrified  fruits  amon<;  the  cinders — the 
dates  and  figs  of  the  country.  On  many  bits 
of  pottery  eyes  are  painted.  Hut  the  best  of 
this  {)artial  resurrectif)n  is  the  sculpture,  in 
which  the  (lenius  of  the  people  still  lives. 

After  visiting  the  ruins  we  had  lunch  in  a 
restaurant  overlooking  the  ancient  harbor 
and  the  present  summer  palace  of  the  Bey, 
with  shadowy  mountains  across  the  water. 
Then  we  entered  the  Cathedral,  where  a 
Sunday  service  was  in  progress.  This  fine 
building  is  another  reminder  of  Archbishop 
Lavigerie.  There  were  White  Brothers  and 
White  Sisters,  the  latter  wearing  Moorish 
headcovering.  From  the  Cathedral  we  wan- 
dered down  to  the  station,  where  during  a  long 
wait  for  the  train  we  amused  ourselves  by 
taking  pictures  of  some  of  the  beggars,  who 
infest  this,  as  they  do  most  Oriental  lands. 
They  came  from  Bedouin  tents  and  huts  of 
[226] 


AWAY 

the  most  wretched  description,  but  it  is  re- 
markable how  pretty  some  of  the  women  and 
girls  are.  The  old  simile  of  the  jflowers  from 
the  mud  continually  recurs  to  us.  They 
posed  with  their  water- jugs  and  did  not  seem 
afraid  of  the  camera,  as  were  the  people  of 
Algiers.  Perhaps  they  do  not  know  it  so 
well.  They  do  not  seem  less  strict  in  their 
religion;  for  here  in  Tunis  Christians  are 
not  yet  admitted  to  the  mosques  under  any 
conditions. 

The  morning  after  our  visit  to  ancient 
Carthage  we  went  through  modern  Tunis, 
with  a  picturesque  Biskran  guide.  We  sat 
before  one  of  the  little  shops  in  the  Street  of 
Perfumes  to  bargain  for  attar  of  rose;  and 
we  had  coffee  in  the  large  rug  bazaar  of  a 
rich  Arab,  who,  true  to  the  expression  in  the 
Arabian  Nights,  said  he  loved  our  guide 
"like  a  son."  The  bazaars  form  a  fascinat- 
ing maze  of  streets  arched  over,  with  the 
open  fronts  of  the  shops  on  each  side  between 
gay-colored  pillars.  Here  is  indeed  the  setting 
of  the  Arabian  Nights.  One  passage  is  the 
Street  of  the  Embroiderers;  another,  the 
Street  of  Silks;  another,  the  Street  of  Fezes. 
Each  shop  in  the  Street  of  Fezes  showed  a 
different  stage  of  the  work;  and  in  the  silk 
[227] 


ALGIERS 

bazaars  we  saw  the  handlooins,  where  the 
men  were  makin<]j  the  fabric  for  which  Tunis 
is  famous.  Then  we  went  up  into  tlie  l*alace 
of  Justice,  where  the  Hey  comes  every  Mon- 
day to  judge  his  peopk\  afterward  showing 
himself  at  the  window  to  those  in  tlic  market 
pLace  below.  The  windows  project,  and  there 
is  a  door  in  the  sill,  through  wliicli,  if  neces- 
sary, he  can  look  down  on  those  directly 
beneath.  In  this  palace  there  is  such  fine 
open-work  and  mosaic  as  is  no  longer  to  be 
seen  in  Algiers.  From  the  roof  we  looked 
over  the  whole  of  Tunis — the  French  city  all 
gray,  the  Arab  city  white.  There  are  only 
twenty  thousand  Europeans  to  one  hundred 
and  eighty  thousand  natives. 

We  were  interested  in  many  things  beside 
the  bazaars,  which  seemed  characteristic: 
the  genuine  striped  Saracenic  arches;  the 
stately  minarets;  and  the  costumes,  quite 
different  from  those  of  the  Algerines.  None 
of  the  men  wear  the  patriarchal  haik  with  the 
camels'  rope  bound  round  the  head.  They 
have  fezes  and  turbans,  and  the  fezes  carry 
long  and  splendid  tassels  down  to  the  shoul- 
ders. There  is  also  more  tattooing  here. 
The^^black  face-cloths  of  the  women  are 
startling  under  their  white  shawls.  Their 
[228] 


AWAY 

clothes  are  more  scanty,  less  dazzlingly  white 
than  the  Algerines'.  The  Jewesses  of  Tunis 
are  in  native  dress.  On  the  top  of  the  head 
is  a  black  silk  kerchief,  surmounted  by  a 
long  cone.  The  cones  are  of  various  shapes 
and  sometimes  covered  with  gilt  ornaments. 
From  the  tip  hangs  the  white  haik.  The 
faces  are  not  covered,  and  some  of  them  are 
handsome;  but  these  Jewesses  are  probably 
the  stoutest  women  and  have  the  largest 
ankles  of  any  women  in  the  world.  Tunis- 
ian people  do  not  wear  neat  low  shoes  as  do 
the  Algerines,  but  slippers  so  much  too  small 
that  the  heel  is  under  the  instep,  and  the  shoes 
seem  always  coming  off — can  it  be  an  attempt 
to  imitate  French  fashions  ? 

On  the  boulevard  we  saw  camels  and,  just 
outside  the  city,  Bedouin  tents. 

The  whole  difference  between  Tunis  and 
Algiers  might  be  summed  up  as  follows: 
In  Algiers  the  Arab  life  is  buried,  the  city 
belongs  to  the  French  and  the  French  are 
destroying  the  Oriental  to  build  a  modern 
Western  town.  In  Tunis  the  Arab  life  goes 
on  in  all  its  vigor,  protected,  not  suppressed 
by  the  French,  who  may  not  destroy  any- 
thing. Neither  are  there  the  oppressive  taxes 
and  heavy  duties  of  Algiers.  It  is,  therefore, 
[229] 


ALGIERS 

much  more  prosperous,  and  appears  so  even 
in  the  French  settlement.  And  yet,  the 
Algerian  Moorish  life  in  passing  seems  most 
beautiful. 

Ruin  has  well  been  called  "the  charm 
beyond  perfection."  It  is  the  freeing  of  the 
spirit.  And  that  moment  while  the  spirit 
lingers  is  most  exquisite  of  all.  It  is  that 
period  in  Algeria  now.  The  French  con- 
quest, while  destroying  and  covering  much, 
has  caused  the  Oriental  life  to  reveal  its 
most  spiritual  loveliness. 

At  the  same  time  the  struggle  and  the  grave 
responsibility  of  their  position  has  brought 
into  the  highest  places  strong  French  officials. 
Among  the  Arab  officers  who  remain  in 
Algeria  and  in  the  European  colony  is  a 
splendor  and  a  refinement  hardly  existing  in 
Tunis.  Tunis  is  interesting  for  a  short  visit, 
but  one  could  not  live  in  it  and  love  it  as  one 
loves  Algiers. 

When,  next  day,  we  had  sailed  out  through 
the  canal  in  the  midst  of  the  Lake  of  Tunis, 
and  had  skirted  the  height  where  once  was 
the  city  of  the  Carthaginians,  we  watched 
that  city  fade  into  the  Past.  Thoughts 
thronged  upon  us,  of  all  who  had  come  and 
gone  this  way.  How  had  Dido  and  the 
[230] 


AWAY 

founders  of  Carthage  chosen  the  place  ?  Had 
they  coasted  around  the  great  bay  among  its 
misty,  mythical-looking  mountains,  exploring 
the  land-locked  lakes  ?  And  when  Carthage 
had  grown,  what  high  hopes  had  set  sail  in 
the  merchant  vessels,  as  they  danced  over 
the  blue  waves  going  out;  what  joy  had 
greeted  homesick  hearts  when  there  came  in 
view|again  that  last  headland,  behind  which 
the  proud  city  lay;  and  what  grim  hate  and 
envy  had  filled  the  Aryan  Romans  who  be- 
held her,  the  rival  who  claimed  against  their 
capital  the  future  of  the  world!  And  then 
what  fires  of  patriotism  had  kindled  in  Car- 
thaginian breasts — what  bravery!  Now  the 
city — of  Romans  as  well  as  of  Carthaginians 
— is  but  a  plain.  Yet  as  we  sailed  away  the 
light  upon  it  gave  it  for  us  a  semblance  of 
its  former,  far-off  glory. 

Days  passed  on  the  blue  sea,  until,  upon  a 
certain  dawn,  our  unobtrusive  cargo  steamer 
glided  through  the  opening  between  long 
sand-bars  into  the  lagoons  of  Venice.  The 
sun  rose  slowly,  touching  the  sleepy  little 
fishing-boats,  which  shook  their  red  and 
yellow  sails.  As  if  roused  by  these  butter- 
flies, beautiful  Venice  awoke,  and  broke 
through  the  mists,  an  accomplished  reality. 
[231] 


ALGIERS 

We  had  passed  through  the  gateway  from 
the  East  to  the  West.  But  we  keep  with  us 
the  dream  of  the  star  in  the  East,  the  star  of 
revelation,  which  guided  youthful  Europe, 
and  to  which  she  will  return. 


[232] 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Adjar  or  woman's  veil,  134. 
Abd-el-Kader,  185-190. 
Administration  of  law,  see  French 
Government  and  Kabyle  in- 
stitutions. 
Administration   of   Mohammedan 

law,  148,  204. 
iEtius,  38. 
Africa,  14,  34,  36. 
Africa  Propria,  33. 
Agha,  86,  106. 
Agriculture,  178,  198,  207. 
Aide-de-Camp,  see  Costumes. 
Aissaoui,  224. 
Algeria: 

Divisions,  34,  194. 
See  History  and  French  Govern- 
ment. 
As  a  colony,  206,  211. 
Races,  10,  14. 

Accomplishment,  see  Agricul- 
ure.  Exports  and  Harbor. 
Difficulties,  206. 
Climate  near  Algiers,  21,  208. 
Soil,  178,  208. 
Algerian  Characteristics: 
Arches,  84. 
Costume,  131-142. 
Embroidery,  154. 
Jewelry,  153. 
Algiers   City: 

Location  and  name,  34,  42,  88. 
Site,  96. 
Founded,  42. 
History: 

See  El-Djezair. 
Since  French  conquest,  178- 
194. 


Algiers  City — Continued 

As  a  center,  16. 

Charm,  21,  100,  230. 
Algiers,    Province,    189.     See   Al- 
geria, Divisions  and  French 
Government. 
Ali  Khoja,  see  Deys. 
Almsgiving,     see    Mohammedan- 
ism. 
Amin,193. 

Amphitheater  at  Carthage,  225. 
L'Anti  Juif,  197. 
Appeal  from  sentence,  102. 
Aqueduct,  see  Roman  remains. 
Arab  cemeteries,  see  Cemeteries. 
Arab  chiefs,  106. 
Arab  costume,  see  Costumes. 
Arab  customs,  see  Customs. 
Arab    life,    see    Mohammedanism 
and  Oriental  qualities. 

Dignity  and  grace,  25. 

Exaltation,  142,  149. 

Faith,  185. 

Hiunor,  141. 

Impassivity,  25,  149. 

Incapacity  for  discipline,  69. 

Love  of  stories,  69. 
Arab  quarter  of  Tunis,  223,  224. 
Arab    town    of    Algiers,    see    El- 
Djezair. 
Arab  women,  see  Women. 
Arabs  and  Moors,  12,  41. 
Arabs  in  Algeria: 

Origin,  13. 

Invasions,  39^2. 

Government,  41. 

Founding  El-Djezair,  43. 

History,  see  History  of  Algeria. 
Arcades,  10. 


[235] 


INDEX 


Archbishop   Lavigerie,    171,    175, 

197,  198. 
Archbishop's  apartnieiit.s,  177. 
Archbi-shop's  I'alace,  83. 
Arches: 

Algerian,   see   /XJgerian   charac- 

teri.stics. 
Of  Adiiiirulty,  W't. 
Of  arcades   and   ramparts,    10, 

Of  Long  Mosque,  semitetl  horse 

shoe  arches,  147. 
Saracenic,  'i'28. 
Measured  by  eye,  8-1. 
Archittrture: 

Of  Moorish  villas  and  palac"cs, 

83,  97,  UMi. 
Of  mosques,  147.  l.>0. 
Of  old  town,  ill,  H3. 
French  and  Moorish,  184. 
Anny,  195. 

Army  cluirch,  see  Catlutlral,  171. 
Arrival,  U). 

Arjan  race  in  Algeria,  14,  3'2,  38; 
see  Invasions;    and   Romans, 
Vanilals  and  French. 
Arj-an  vs.  Semitic  civilization,    2, 

225. 
Asceticism,  176,  203. 
AtJjus  Mountains,  see  Mountains. 
Attar  of  roses,  178,  227. 


B 


173. 


Baba-Aroudj,  70.  80.  8"; 
Bach-Agluus,  100.  191. 
Bagdad,  41. 

Barbarossas,  see  Baba-Aroudj. 
Barbary  Coast,  see  North  Africa 
and  Algeria. 

Cities,  43,  222. 

Conquest  by  Ferdinand,  48. 

Granary  of  Europe,  178. 
Barbary  States,   12;    see  Barbary 

Coast. 
Bargaining,  212,  223. 
Barracks: 

In  Kasba,  101. 

On  jetty,  145. 


Bathing  Fountain,  98. 
Baths,  M(K)risli  public,  02. 
Bav  of  Algiers,  171. 
Bay  of  Tunis.  42,  222,  231. 
liay.iuirs  of  Tunis,  227. 
Biilouins,  22G. 
Beggars,  148.  157,  22(i. 
Beliefs  of  natives  concerning  Ag- 
riculture, see  Idea.s. 

Death,  1(>2.  I«i5. 

Evil  eye.  50.  139.  100;   see  Cus- 
toms;  also  l*re<;aulions. 

Images.  25.  83.  139.  14(J.  172. 

Pollution  (if  mos<|ues,  142. 

Spirits,  101. 

War.  39,  187,   192. 
Beli.sarius,  39. 
Berber  customs: 

One  wife,  o3. 

Not  strietly  veilixl,  50. 

\Vf<lding  customs,  59,  03. 
BerlxTfouMilerof  Fatimitese<t, 42. 
Bcrlier  leaders.  32. 
BerlxT  princess,  see  Chap.  A 

Dream  of  EI-Dje/air,  47-79. 
BerlKT  quitMi,  40. 
Berbers  m  Algeria: 

Origin.  13. 

Name,  12. 

IndeiK-ndence,   14,  32,  40,   190, 
192. 

llistoi^-,  32,  42;  later  hlstorj-,  see 
Kabyles. 
Berbnigger   see  Musee. 
Betrothal  customs,  see  Customs. 
Bey  of  Tunis,  220,  228. 
Birth  Festivity,  see  Customs, 
liimiandreis,  see  Villages. 
Blessing  tlie  Sea,  172. 
Bona  or  Bone,  38,  222. 
Bonifiice,  38,  222. 
Boulevard  of  Algiers,  10,  120,  122 
Boulevard  of  Tunis,  223. 
Bouzarea,  see  Villages. 
Bowen,  Dr.,  100. 
Boys,  141. 

Names,  156. 

Precautions  against  evil  eye,  see 
Customs. 


[236] 


INDEX 


Boys — Continued 

Education,  156. 

Orphanage,  198. 
Bread-boys,  120,  126. 
Bureaux  Arabes,  36,  191,  195,  196. 

Bureau  Politique,  196. 

Direction  Provinciale,  196. 

Bureau  Territorial,  196. 
Bureau  Arabe  of  the  Circle,  196. 
Borial  Customs,  see  Customs,  196. 
Byzantines,  7,  39. 


Cadi,  148,  204. 

Caesar  in  Africa,  35. 

Cafes  of  Algiers,  122. 

Cafes  of  Tunis,  223. 

Cairo,  capital  of  Khalifate,  42. 

Caligula,  33. 

Camels,  with  note,  112. 

Canaanites,  32. 

Canal  at  Tunis,  222. 

Cape  Caxine,  171. 

Cape  Matifou,  86. 

Cape  Sidi-Feruch,  174. 

Captives,  86,  88,  151,  175. 

Carthage,  32,  224-227,  230. 

Carthaginian  state,  33,  34. 

Cathedral,  83,  171,  184. 

Catholic  seminary,  177. 

Cathedral    Square    (Place    Mala- 

koff,  83. 
Catholicism,  175,  177,  197,  198. 
Cato,  35. 

Cavalry,  see  Costumes. 
Cemeteries : 

Arab,  161. 

French,  171. 

Roman,  see  Roman  remains. 
Ceremonies: 

Naming,  51. 

Marriage,  62,  66,  84. 
Chateau  d'Hydra,  91,  97,  100. 
Children  of  Algiers,  154-158. 
Christianity,  37,  41,  175. 
Chxirches,  see  Cathedral  and  Notre 
Dame  d'Afrique. 


Climate,  see  Algeria. 

Cobbler  Dey,  87. 

Colonization,  178,  see  Algeria  as  a 

colony. 
Commandants  superieurs,  see  Bu- 
reaux Arabes. 
Commerce,  207. 

Constantine,  see  Algeria  Divisions 
34,  and  French  Government, 
200. 
Consulaire,  La,  90. 
Cooking,  Moorish,  125. 
Corporal    punishment,    see    Cus- 
toms. 
Corsairs,  85. 

Costumes,     131-142.    see    Chap, 
The  Face  of  the  Waters. 
Arabs,  131. 
Aides-de-Camp,  132. 
Biskri  water-carriers,  136. 
Cavalry  or  Spahis,  132. 
French  soldiers,  see  Costumes, 

Zouaves. 
Hebrews,  133. 
Kabyles,  135. 
Moors,  133. 
Moorish  women,  133. 
Mozabites,  136. 
Turks,  see  Costmnes,  Zouaves. 
Tunis,  228-230. 
Zouaves,  101,  133,  137. 
^'  Council  of  authorities,  195. 
Country,  173,  178. 
Country  hut,  205. 
Country  market,  167. 
Coup  d'eventail,  103. 
Court  of  Moorish  house,  51,  63, 

84,  160, 
Couscous,  64,  125. 
Crossing  from   Marseilles   to  Al- 
giers, 207. 
Customs,   see   Chapter,  A  Dream 
of  El-Djezair,  47-79. 
Origin,  13,  15,  201. 
Birth  festivity,  51. 
Naming,  see  Ceremonies. 
Precautions  against  evil  eye, 
50,  60,  158. 
Veiling  and  seclusion  of  women, 


[237] 


INDEX 


Customs — Continued 

Veiling  and  seclusion  of  wo- 
men, 52,  157. 

Betrothal,  55. 

Marriage,   53,    157;    see  also 
Ceremonies. 

Polygamy,  159. 

Women's  outings,  see  Women. 

Gifts,  59,  90. 

Almsgiving,  see   Mohammed- 
anism. 

Feasting,  53.  64. 

Prayer,     see     Mohammedan- 
ism. 

Fasting,    see    Mohammedan- 
ism. 

Sabbath-keeping,  see  Moham- 
medanism. 

Punishment.  203. 

Buriiil.  51.  102. 

Ditliculty  of  laving  aside,  199. 

Influence  of  Europeans,  202. 
and  note. 
Cyprian,  37. 

Cyrenaica,  see  North  Africa  Divi- 
sions, 33. 


D 


Deys: 

History,  86-91,  102,  105. 
Deys  mentioned: 
Mustapha: 

Palace  and  tombstone,  83. 
Story,  90. 

Country  palace,  see  Chateau 
d'Hydra. 
Ali  Khoja: 

Palace,  see  Kasba. 
Story,  102. 
Hussein,  103,  104. 
Dido,  see  Legends. 
Difficulties  of  different  standards, 

188,  199-206. 
Direction  Provinciale,  see  Bureaux 

Arabes. 
Djurdjura,  see  Mountains. 
Donatists,  7,  38. 
Donkeys,  112. 


Do<ir  of  the  Lions.  146. 

Door  in  wiruiow-sill.  22H. 

Drive  to  Trappist  monajsterj",  «•« 

Chapter,    Into    the    Present, 

171-177. 


E<lucation: 

Bovs,  156. 

(iii-ls.  .■>:{,  .'56.  154. 
Kgvpt.  40,  105. 
Kl-Biar.  98.  180. 
Kl-Djr/uir,   see   Chapter,    Hidden 

\Vavs. 
Description,  23,  145-167. 

Destruction,  184. 

Name,  43. 

Histor>',  86,  102. 

Restoration  of  mosfjue,  147. 
Kinbroiden,',  see  Algerian  charac- 

terLsti(s. 
Kmirs,   41,   86;    see  also  Alnl-el- 
Kiuler  and  Chapter,  A  Dream 
of  F.l-I)i(v,air. 
England  and  .VIgeria,  88,  91. 
English  mi.ssionary  work,  200 
Eucalj-jitus  cordial,  176. 
Evil  eye,  see  Beliefs  and  Customs. 
E.vports,  122. 


Fasting,  see  Mohammedanism. 

F'atalism.  see  Mohammedanism. 

Father  Fortunate.  90. 

Fathma.  42.  156. 

Faiimites,   42,  see  Mohammedan 

sects. 
Feasting,  see  Customs. 
Ferdinand  and  Algeria,  49. 
Festival,  see  Mohammedanism. 
Foreigners  in  Algiers,  100,  207. 
Fort,  see  Kasba. 
Fort  of  Baba  Aroudj,  173. 
Fort  on  Cape  Matifou,  see  Cape 

Matifou. 
Fort,  Spanish,  in  harbor,  49. 

[238] 


INDEX 


Fort — Continued 

Legend,    47,    see    Chapter,    A 
Dream  of  El-Djezair. 

History,  85-91. 
Forts  of  Ferdinand,  see  Ferdinand. 
Fortifications,  102. 
Fountains,  destroyed,  184. 
Fountains  mentioned: 

On  Rue  des  Palais  Vieux,  83. 

On  jetty,  145. 

Black  Foimtain,  147. 
French  cemetery,  see  Cemeteries. 
French  city,  10. 
French  colonists,  see  Algeria  as  a 

colony. 
French  conquest,  104,  183,  230. 
French  Government  and  methods, 

194,  208. 
French  Government  and  Church, 

177. 
French  in  Algeria,  229,  30. 
French  soldiers,  96. 

Barracks,  see  Barracks. 

Church,  see  Cathedral. 

Costume,  see  Costumes. 
French  theater,  201. 
French  villas,  95. 


Gardens,  95,  98. 
General  de  Bourmont,  104. 
General  Desmichels,  188. 
Genseric,  39. 
Geranium  essence,  176. 
Gifts,  see  Customs. 
Girls,  157. 

Names,  156. 

Education,  53,  56,  154. 

Veiling,  Betrothal  and  Marriage, 
see  Customs. 
Goletta,  222 

Government,  see  French  Govern- 
ment. 
Government,  Mohammedan,  1,42. 
Kabyle,  193. 

Turkish,  see  Deys,  History. 
Governor-General,  194. 


Governor-General — Continued 
Palace,  83. 

Smnmer  palace,  105,  108. 
Governor-General  D'Erlon,  188. 
Governor-General   Durrien    (Act- 
ing), 191. 
Governor-General    Jonnart,    206, 

with  note. 
Governor's  Ball,  105-108. 
Governors,  Roman,  see  Romans  in 

Algeria,  32-38. 
Gregorms,  39. 

H 

Haik,  131,  134. 
Hamitic  race  in  Algeria: 

Independence,  192. 

See  also  Berbers,  Kabyles  and 
Touaregs. 
Hanefites,  see  Mohanmiedan  sects. 
Harbor,  11,  86,  145. 
Harbor  of  Tunis,  222. 
Harbor  of  Carthage,  224. 
Harem,  160. 

Harem-court  or  building,  84. 
Harem-garden,  98. 
Hassan,  78. 
Hebrews,  15,  43,  197. 

Costume,  see  Costumes. 

Suburb,  see  St.  Eugene. 
Heirlooms,  107. 
Henna,  155,  157. 
Hills,    Sahel,    see    Mountains    of 

Algeria. 
History  of  Algeria: 

To  rise  of  Turkish  power,  31-44. 

Turkish,  85-91,  102. 

French,  183-194. 
Holy  Wars,  78,  186,  192,  212. 
Horses,  111,  138. 
Horush  Baba-Aroudj,  see   Baba- 

Aroudj. 
Hussein  Dey,  see  Deys  mentioned. 


Icosium,  34,  36. 
IdeaUty  of  East,  214, 
Ideals,  see  Mohammedanism. 


[239] 


INDEX 


Ideas: 

Of  sacredness  of  agriculture,  178 

Conceminjj  women,  199. 

Concerning  punishment,  0)3. 

Concerninjj  war,  see  Beliefs. 

Concerning  trade,  207. 
Ifrikia,  41. 
Imessebelen,  103. 
Institution.s    of    Berber    Kabyles, 

see  Kabyles. 
Insurrections  against  France,  185- 

194. 
Invasions: 

I'licrnirian,  32. 

Koman.  32. 

Vamlai.  38. 

Moliamme<lan,  39. 


Janissaries,  86-91,  102-105. 
Jetty,  26,  145-147. 
Jewels,  107,  153. 
Jewesses  of  Tunis,  229. 
Journey  for  the  bride,  59. 
Juba,  32,  35. 
Jugurtha,  32. 
Jugurthine  Wars,  35. 

K 

Kabyles  in  Algeria,  early  history, 
see  also  Berbers. 

Origin,  13. 

Name,  31. 

Independence,  see  Berbers. 

Conquest  of,  190. 

Institutions,  193. 

Women,  13,  134. 

Costume,  see  Casturaes. 
Kabyha,  135,  190,  192. 
Kairouan,  41. 
Kasba,  101-102,  183. 
Khalif  Othman,  41. 
KhaUfates,  42. 
Khair-ed-din,  78,  86. 
Koran,  148. 
Koubba,  177. 


I^biomis,  35. 
Ijike  of  Tunis.  222.  2.3<J. 
I^iws,  French.  208,  «"e  French  Gov- 
ernment. 
I^ws.    164,   201;     Mohammedan, 
see  also  Customs  and  .\dmin- 
istration      of      Mohammeilan 
law.  203.  204. 
liaw  oflicc  of  Cjuli,  see  Cadi. 
Ix^gemls  of  .Vfrica: 
r)i.l(.,  .S2,  2.S0. 
BerlxT  (pMfn,  40. 
Beri)er  j)riiufss  Zajihira,  47-79; 
see  ("hiip.,  ,\  Dream  o{  El- 
l)j<v4iir. 
Sidi-Fenich.  174. 
Library.  National.  83-85. 
Mghthouse,  7H,  146. 
Lions,    .Mosaic,   see   Door   of   the 

Lions. 
Lyceum,  156. 

M 

MaLson  Carr^,  198. 

Mulckites,  see  Mohammedan  .sectx. 

Miirius,  35. 

.Markets,  121;  *f«  Country  market. 

Marriage,   see   also  Customs   and 
Ceremonies. 
Of  converts,  199. 
Of  ori)hans,  198. 

Mauri,  12;    see  Berbers  and  Ka- 
b^-les. 

Mauntania.  12,  34. 

Medeah.  188. 

Metellus.  35. 

Military  rule,  183,  195. 

Minarets,  223. 

Missionarj'  work,  198. 

Mohammed  Ali,  105,  186. 

Mohammedan    invasion,    see    In- 
vasions. 

Mohammedan  Sabbath,  149,  161. 

Mohammedan  sects,  42,  146,  150. 

Mohammedan  year,  164. 

Mohammedanism,  see  also  Beliefs 
and  Customs. 


[240] 


INDEX 


Mohammedanism — Continued 
Ideals,  see  Belief  in  holiness  of 
war,  40,  and  Standard,  203. 
Standard,    customs    and    laws, 

199, 203. 
Worship,  148-152. 

Special  prayers,  165,  192. 
Absence  of  images,  see  Beliefs. 
Forms: 

Almsgiving,  165. 

Fasting,  164. 

Festival  at  end  of  Rhamadan, 

150. 
Sabbath-keeping,  see  Moham- 
medan Sabbath. 
Pilgrimages,  186. 
Burial  customs,  see  Customs. 
Purification,  62. 
Admission    of    Christians    to 
mosques,  142,  227. 
Qualities : 

Devoutness,  149. 
Stoicism,  165. 
Fatalism,  52,  204. 
Fervor,  39,  186. 
Mohammedanism  vs.  Christianity, 

13,  78,  172,  174,  198-204. 
Mokrani,  191,  192. 
Monastery,   see  Trappist  monas- 
tery. 
Months,  see  Mohammedan  year. 
Moorish  costume,  see  Costumes. 
Moorish  house,5ee  Architecture. 
Moorish  household,  159. 
Moorish  luncheon,  123-127. 
Moorish    villas,    see    Chateau    d' 

Hydra. 
Moors  in  Algeria,  12,  41,  212. 
Morocco,  16,  34,  186,  190. 
Mosques,  see  also  Architecture  of 
mosques: 
Long  or  Old  Mosque,  147. 
Turkish  Mosque,  11,  150. 
Mosque     of     Sidi-Abd-er-Rah- 
man  (not  described) . 
Mosques,  Admission  of  Christians, 

see  Mohammedanism. 
Mosques  destroyed,  184. 

[241] 


Mountains  of  Algeria: 

Atlas,  177. 

Djurdjura,  135,  192. 

Sahel  Hills,  96,  177. 
Mozabites,  in  Algeria: 

Costimie,  see  Costumes. 

Oases  and  life,  137. 
Musee: 

(Conservator  Berbrugger),  184. 
Mustapha   Dey,    see   Deys   men- 
tioned. 
Mustapha  Superieur,  96,  98,  106. 


N 


Names  explained: 

Algiers,  88. 

Assaoui,  224. 

Bab-Azoun,  120. 

Barbary  States,  12. 

Berber,  12. 

El-Biar,  98. 

El-Djezair,  43. 

Kabyle,  32. 

Khair-ed-din,  71. 

Koubba,  177. 

Sidi,  174. 

Zouave,  101. 
Names  of  children,  156. 
Naming,  see  Ceremonies. 
Napoleon's  treaty,  90. 
Native  farm,  205. 
Negroes  in  Algeria,  26,  194. 
North  Africa,  see  also  Africa  and 
Algeria: 

Divisions,  33. 

Problem,  16. 
Notre  Dame  d'Afrique,  171, 172. 
Numidia,  34,  35. 


O 


Oran,  187,  189;  see  Algeria,  Divi- 
sions and  French  Govern- 
ment. 

Oriental  courtesy,  213. 

Oriental  honor,  191,  192,  213. 

Oriental  pride,  104. 

Oriental  reserve,  24. 


INDEX 


Palaces: 

Palace  of  the  Deys,  11.  83.  184. 
Palace   of   IlaHsan,   we   Gover- 
nor's Palu/-c. 
Summer    Puliuf    of    Devs,    see 
Governor's  SiimiiuT  raluif. 
Palace  of  Ilussfiri.  184. 
Pala<-e    of    Mu.sta|)lm.    see    Li- 
hrarv.  83-85,  uikI  Chateau 
d'llyilra.  i)l.  y7.  100. 
Kasba.  see  Kasha,  101    10^.  183. 
Palace  of  tlie  .SiilUm's  l)au>,'lit«'r. 
see  .\rclil)i.sli<>i)'s  l*ulac«',  8.3. 
Pala<e  of  Justice  at  Tuiii.H,  ^48. 
Pavilion    of    tlie    <i)U|)    d'ev«'iitail. 

see  KiLslia. 
Persian    Moliainnmlan.s,   tee    Miv- 

hammf<lan  sects,  4'£.  14(1. 
Phfcnicians,  see  Invasioim,  Si. 
PhotoKrapliin^',  138- 14i. 
Piracy.  78,  88-91,  tXt. 
Place  Bresson.  HO. 
Place  de  Chartn-.  \t\. 
Place  du   (iouvernenient,    H.    1(), 

138. 184. 
Place  of  rxe<ution,  see  Kasba,  lO'i. 
Placidia.  38. 
Pla^e.  103. 

Polygamy,  see  C'ustonus.  151). 
Pomjx»y,  35. 
Porte  d'lsly.  113. 
Poverty,  lll-llfi.  1G5,  »a5. 
Prayer,  see  Mohainmedanism. 
Praving-place.  145. 
JVehistoric  remains.  173. 
Prisons: 

For  Christians,  145. 
Old  Turkish.  146. 
Problem  of  .Vlgeria.  15. 
See   Chapter.   Chance  and 
Change,  183-^08. 
Processions: 
Wedding,  63. 
Arab  chiefs,  107. 
Protective  policy,  208. 
Provinces,  see  Algeria.  Divisions. 
34,  and  French  Government, 
194. 


Ptolemy,  S3,  35. 

Punic  remains  at  Cartha^,  225. 


R 


Hace  relations.  39.  13,  14. 
Kiict-s  in  .Mgeria,  10.   14. 
Hiiiinuiil  station.  1 1. 
Kiun|uuis,  10. 
I{elation  of   Ka.st  and   West.  212- 

218. 
Kriigion   in   .Vlgrria,    15,    see  also 
(  atliolicLsrn,  Christianity; 

Frt-nch       (Jovennnmt       and 
Church;         Mohani(M)-<luni.siii 
v.».    Christianity;     an<l    UeJa- 
tion  of  Ha-st  and  Wt-st. 
Ilcsonrifs  of  .Mgi-riji,  208. 
Ki-stonitioiLs  by  Fn-nch,  see  I>jng 
Mt>s<|ue,    147,  and  Cistern  at 
Carthage,  225. 
Uhaniadan,  164;   see  Moluuumed- 

aiiLsin.  and  Fasting. 
IduuLs: 

Uoiimn.  36,  111. 
Fr.-nch.  111. 

|{oad  of  Frrnch  (tnnjuest,  178. 
Uoiimn  Christianity,  set  Christian- 
ity and  Catliolicism. 
Roman  reinain.*i: 
A.|U.-»lu«t,  36. 
Cemeteries.  36. 
Names,  173. 

Pa.Hsage  undor  Hydra,  set  Cha- 
teau d'llydra. 
Quarn,-.  173. 
Uou<ls.  see  Roads. 
Ruins,  179. 
Streets,  36. 
Timgad.  37. 
Roman  remains  at  Carthage.  225. 
Roman  contest  with  Carthage,  32, 

231. 
Romans  in  .AJgeria,  13,  32-38. 
Roofs,  see  Terraces. 
Rugs,  155. 

Rums,  see  Carthage.  225,  and  Tim- 
gad.  37. 


[242] 


INDEX 


Saddle,  native,  132. 

Sahel  Hills,  see  Mountains. 

Sailors'  Church,  see  Notre  Dame 

d'Afrique. 
St.  Augustine,  37,  38,  222. 
St.  Eugene,  172. 
Sallust,  35. 

Saracenic  arches,  see  Arches. 
Scipio,  35. 
Sea-waU,  11. 
Selim-bin-Teumi,  see  Emirs,  and 

A  Dream  of  El-Djezair. 
Semitic  race,  see  also  Arab  life  and 
Oriental  qualities. 

Faith,  185,  215. 

Fervor,  185. 
Semitic  races  in  Algeria,  see  Arabs, 

Moors  and  Hebrews. 
Serpent  cake,  126. 
Shiites,  see  Mohammedan    sects, 

150. 
Shops,  120. 

Cfurios,  107,  121,  153. 

Provisions,  119. 

Tunis,  see  Bazaars. 
Sidi-Feruch,  see  Cape  Sidi-Feruch. 
Silk,  227. 
Slave-girls,  56, 61. 
Slavery,  see  Captives. 
Slaves,  25,  72;  see  also  Captives. 
Snake-charmers,  see  Aissaoni. 
Soil,  see  Algeria,  Soil. 
Soldiers,  see  French  soldiers. 
Spahis,  see  Costimies. 
Spain  in  Algeria,  41,  43,  48,  49,  86. 
Spaniard    and    Sidi-Feruch,    see 

Legends. 
Spanish  arms,  see  Fort,  Spanish. 
Staoueli,  175. 
Streets,  23. 
Streets  mentioned: 

see  Boulevard. 

Rue  Bab-Azoun,  36,  120. 

Rue  Bab-el-Oued,  36,  122. 

Rue  de  la  Marine,  36,  147. 

Rue  Soggemah,  152. 

see  also  Place  Bresson,  Place  de 


Chartre,  Place  du  Gouveme- 
ment,  Cathedral  Square 
(Place  Malakoff). 

Streets  of  Tunis,  223,  227. 

Sultan  and  Algeria,  86,  90. 

Sunnites,  tee  Mohammedan  sects, 
150. 


Tartars,  15,  212. 

Tattooing,  13,  228. 

Terraces,  127. 

TertulUan,  37. 

Theater,  see  French  theater. 

Tiling,  95,  98. 

Timgad,  see  Roman  remains,  37. 

Tlemcen,  42. 

Touaregs,  14. 

Trade  in  the  Orient,  223. 

Tram,  119. 

Trappist  monastery,  175-177. 

Treaties  mentioned: 

Between  Dey  and  England,  89. 

Between  Dey  and  Napoleon,  90. 

Surrender  to  French,  105. 

Treaty  of  1834,  187. 

Treaty  of  Tafna,  189. 
Tripoli,  33. 
Tunis  (city),  222,  228. 
Tunis  (country),  33. 
Turkish    costume,    see    Costume, 

Zouaves. 
Tiu-kish  mosque,  see  Mosques. 
Turkish  prison,  see  Prisons. 
Turks  in  Algeria: 

History,  25,   44;    see  also  El- 
Djezair,  History,  86,  102. 


U 
United  States  and  Algeria,  90. 


Vandal  remains  at  Carthage,  226. 
Vandals  in  North  Africa,  see  In- 
vasions. 


[243] 


INDEX 


Vegetation.  178. 
Villages  mentione*!: 

IJiriiiuiulreis,  Fmicli,  !)7. 
Boii/ureu,  Kahyle,  ITS. 
Villugc    ill    niiii.s,    sec    Human 

reinnins,  179. 
Village.s   of   Ariib   orphans,    »ee 
Callioliei.sni.  199. 
Villas,  1H4;   see  aLio  Chapter,  The 

Pa.ssinj»  of  the  Dcys. 
Vineprtl.s,  173.  ISO. 
Visiting  Moorish  women,  158-101. 

VV 

Warehouses,  10. 

Water  carriers,  154;   see  also  Cos- 
tumes. 
Water  front,  11. 
VVetldinij-<'Usloms,  see  Ceremonies 

and  Customs. 
Wine.  17(i.  408;   aee  aUo  E.xports. 
Wine-Carts,  111. 

Women,  see  also  Girls  and  Cus- 
toms: 
Accomplishments  and  (Xxuf)n- 

tions,  53,  56,  12.5. 
Apartments,  84,  '205;   see  .Vrchi- 
tccture  of  Moorish  villa.s. 


Women — Cinitinurd 

Costume,  see  ("<»tumes. 
r>e  of  henna,  see  licnna. 
\'eiling,  st-tlusion,  iM-tmthal  and 

marriage,  see  Custom.s. 
Outil«K)r  world,  HI. 
Outings,  101. 
I'ruving-place,  145. 
Life.  iJ4.  100. 
Sul)i»xti.)n.  53.  -^OS. 
I'.Ksition.  199  •iOS. 
Numlier  of  \siv«*s.  55.   159;    see 

Kalivle  women. 
Wife-I)entiiig.  403. 
Mi.s.sionar)'.    work    and    diflirul- 
ties.  see  Mi.vsionar\-  work. 
WonnTi  coimwtetl  with  history'  tif 
.Mgeria,     see     I'iiu-idia,     and 
1^-gends  of  Berber  queen,  and 
Zaphira. 


Ziiphira,  see  Chapter,  A  Dream  of 

El-Djezair,  47-79. 
Zouaves,  see  Costumes. 


[244] 


SE.P  4 


^98» 


DATE  DUE 


'.  n*o 

CAVLORO 

PmtHT€0  IN  U.ft   A. 

DT280  C8 

Grouse,  Mary  Elizabeth,  1873 


Algiers, 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A  A  001  411  630  5 


3  1210  00370  4549 


